Make the World Bright
by aviyah.halpern
Summary: One day, Romano and America wake up in a strange new world, in which all the colors and emotions have disappeared. They must complete a quest to restore this world, and if they don't do it in time...well, better not to think about it. Eventual Romerica.
1. Down the Rabbit Hole

Hello, everyone! Finally my fic account sees some action, aw yeah. Before I get into the story, some preliminary notes:

The main characters in this story are Romano and America, and they're also the main pairing. Eventually. Other Hetalia characters aren't really around. Since this takes place in a different world, I populated it with some OCs, but no worries, they're really not the stars.

There will be gratuitous swear words and general dirty language.

I have a dirty sense of humor, but otherwise, no sexy times. Expect some fluff and sappy shit when the dorks finally do get together, and maybe even a little fade to black... but nothing close to being explicit.

I don't have this story planned out, but there may be some sad things, and/or horrific things, just because my tastes go that way. I promise I'll try to keep it very light, if I do have it, and to add in specific warnings if the time comes!

* * *

It was yet another stupid world meeting that South Italy found himself in. Stupid potato bastard just now managed to calm everyone in the room down enough for the next person to give their presentation—though honestly, Romano felt that his brother's talk on pasta was far better than whatever bullshit they were actually presenting on.

And of course, who should the next presenter be, but America. While the blond prepared his slideshow, Romano could feel his… _feelings_ for the (handsome) idiot flare up again, which he suppressed immediately. Romano had been having (and reflexively fighting off) these idiotic, ooey-gooey, cheesy feelings for America for so long now, he'd imagine that they would have just died away. But no; they were just as strong today as though he were a goddamn schoolgirl falling in love for the first time, which was really stupid, because shouldn't a two-thousand-year-old nation be better than that?

From the corner of his eye, Romano caught his brother smiling at him like an idiot and flashing him a thumbs-up. Veneziano was the only person who knew about Romano's crush, and he was dog determined to get his brother to hook up with America—even though Romano made it clear, time and time again, that he wasn't interested in doing so.

"Listen up, everyone!" America shouted, slamming his hands on the table, which caused every head in the room to turn to him. He nodded towards his slideshow, titled, 'How Cinnamon Will Save The World'. "I hope you're all hanging onto your socks, because I'm about to knock them right off!

"So, my scientists have been doing some research into cinnamon. Here's a picture of me taking the cinnamon challenge!" America advanced to the next slide, showing an image of his scrunched-up face surrounded by wisps of the brown powder. Romano could swear with a straight face that his idiocy was not endearing at all. "That wasn't for any experiments though, I just wanted to try it! Anyway, as it turns out, terrorists also love cinnamon! Who'da thought?

"I'm thinking we can lure them out of their hiding places with this new information!" He brought up the next slide, which had an image of a bowl with brown liquid in it, and another image of a brown cube. "We mix some cinnamon and water together—probably throw some sugar in there too—and let it sit out around where the terrorists are! They'll definitely come out within a day to have some, and then, bam! We got 'em right where we want 'em! We can have armed forces waiting nearby to capture them!

"Before then, though, we'll have figure out if we want to leave the bait as a liquid, or freeze it before we use it. A sweet cinnamon ice pop would probably be more appealing, but we do run the risk of having it melt away too soon… what do you guys think?"

America was grinning ear-to-ear and eager for replies, but he was only met with stunned silence. He appeared confused with the reaction, before his eyes lit up in realization. "Oh, but don't worry, you guys! My boss will be sure to give them a fair trial! Probably, maybe."

"So daft, as usual, America," England finally said, sipping some tea. "The topic for today is global warming, you know."

"Oh... Okay! Ending terrorism in the world should really be our top priority, but if you wanna stick with global warming..." America shuffled through his notes, obviously not actually reading from them. "So, studies have shown, that warm air is also attracted to cinnamon—"

"Fucking shit, America!" England shouted, getting to his feet and looking ready to jump over the table and throttle the other nation. Next to him, France flicked his hair back and started another monologue about how he was much more refined than the other two. In another moment, Russia started sneaking off somewhere with his pipe, Veneziano tried to bring the topic back to pasta, Switzerland waved his gun around and shouted threats, Germany looked ready to explode...

And Greece, as usual, was napping away. To Romano, this seemed like the best idea right now. So, he pulled a pillow out of his briefcase (as this was certainly not the first time he napped during a meeting), got comfortable, and then let himself be taken away by sweet, deep slumber...

* * *

Romano dreamed about America; he dreamed that America swept him off his feet and carried him off to some strange and distant land. It was just the two of them together in a dense forest, and everything looked bleak and gray.

America set Romano down, and then whispered in his ear, "We're going to bring happiness back." The proposition sent a shiver of pleasure up his spine. Soon they had peeled each others' clothing off, and then...

… Then they were going at it like rabbits. Holy shit did it feel good. Romano could really feel it in his shoulders, as they moved in time with the rhythm... actually, out of rhythm? And America was calling his name over and over, but it was starting to sound too casual...

"... Italy. South Italy. Hey, wake up." America was jostling Romano's shoulders—way too roughly.

Finally Romano opened his eyes, the bleak and gray forest giving way to… bleak and gray walls. The next thing he saw was America, looking down on him, and—"shit!" Romano bolted upright and scooted away a few feet. He looked down at his lap and—yes, he fucking knew it, _of course_ he was tenting right now. He could hear America snort and felt his face flush like it was on fire.

Romano awkwardly tried to close his legs around the problem, and… and now America exploded into full-on, side-splitting laughter. "The fuck are you laughing about!?" Romano spit out, his usual anger finally overtaking his embarrassment.

"Pff—hahaha! It's just, it's—oh god, _and your face_, just—haha! You, you've been around for how long now? And, and—just, your reaction! Hahaha!" America seemed to have some troubles regaining his composure, but when he finally peeked up and saw the glare on Romano's face, he seemed to calm down enough to speak normally. "Do you, uh… you need a little privacy there? Pfff."

"_No._ You fucking bastard."

"Hey, I'll give you a few minutes to, uh, fire the gun, no biggie. Happens to the best of us. I'll go have a look around!" Without waiting for a reply, America got to his feet and left the room.

With the noisy hamburger bastard gone, Romano finally had a chance to check out where he was. The room he was in had stone walls, one door, and a single tiny opening in the wall that served as a window. It looked like something from an old castle, although that was where the familiarity ended; he had absolutely no clue where he was.

On the floor was some kind of... Magic circle, and there were some trinkets scattered about the room. Stranger yet, was the fact that there just wasn't any color here. Romano looked down at his hands and clothes; those were still normal. And even though he'd been so frazzled when America was there, he was pretty sure that the blond looked normal too.

But everything else... It was like someone opened this room in Photoshop and turned the saturation off. Just what was going on...?

Suddenly, there was a loud _slam!_ coming from where the door was, and Romano jumped out of his skin. "Hey, South Italy!" America's voice shouted, and Romano turned around in time to see the blond barging in with someone else by his side. "Look who I found!"

"Son of a bitch!" Romano spat, once again calming his nerves. "Don't do that!" After a deep huff, he finally took a moment to look at the newcomer; she was a short woman, and entirely unfamiliar. Like the rest of their surroundings, she was also colorless, but Romano could still tell that her skin and long hair were dark.

"Haha, why are you so jumpy?" America asked, trying to piece the situation together. "Oh! Were you jerking it just now? Oops!"

Romano felt that fucking blush all over again. "N-no! No the fuck I wasn't! Shit, don't say that in front of a lady!"

"Haha, don't worry, South Italy! Lu here doesn't react to anything!" America nodded towards the woman. "She doesn't care!"

And really, the woman—Lu—did appear apathetic. But still, Romano frowned; even if she didn't care, it was still inappropriate.

"Are you ready to go, Mister South Italy? We can explain everything in the throne room," Lu said. Romano grumbled a yes under his breath—and yes, his tent problem went away on its own by then, _thank you very much_—and the three of them left the room.

* * *

With Lu leading the way, the group navigated through the building. Its narrow stone halls, tiny window-holes, and sconces—which were holding actual, honest-to-god torches—gave Romano the impression that they were in some old European castle.

But this was still fucking bullshit, because, a.), he and America were still the only _things_ around here to be in color, and b.), the architecture was way the fuck wrong! Romano fucking knew his castles, visited castles from all over Europe for as long as the damn things existed, and this castle was like nothing he'd ever seen! The cramped hallways were like something out of a French, early-Renaissance monastery, the bricks looked like more of an English style, the decorative sconces looked similar to the ones he'd seen in a Florentine palace, and the fucking window holes—

"Hey," America said, nudging Romano in the shoulder and snapping him out of his inner rant. "You look like you're ready to murder the walls."

"Tch, bastard," Romano replied, trying to bring himself back into reality. "This place is all wrong."

"Yeah, I know—what happened to all the colors here?"

Romano sighed through his nose, as though he were releasing the steam from inside his head. "...Yes, well, that's wrong too. You know where we are?"

"Nope! I didn't expect to wake up here, either. I think England's trying to play a joke on us or something…"

"Us? I get that you two are butt-buddies or some shit, but why me?"

"I dunno. Because he's an asshole?"

The two of them faced forward, Lu still a few paces ahead and completely silent. They went through hallway after hallway, with their footsteps as the only sound. _Clack, clack, clack…_

A foreboding feeling started to settle in the pit of Romano's stomach. The mismatched styles in architecture which had enraged him so much earlier, were now filling him with dread. This wasn't some… some movie set designer's half-baked idea of an old castle, was it? It was too detailed, too big, there was no way it was just for a movie or something gimmicky like that. But otherwise, something like this shouldn't exist…

And he just noticed this, but everyone was so damn silent. Which meant America was being silent, too. No dirty jokes, no grandstanding… he glanced up at the man next to him. America's face had just the faintest sign of tension, but as soon as Romano saw it, the younger nation seemed to notice he was being watched, and immediately shot a big smile his way.

Shit. Shit shit shit _fuck _motherfucking _shit_. What the hell was going on? Dammit. '_Okay Romano, step one: Do _not _lose sight of America. Do not leave him.' _That idiot—that strong idiot who held so much sway in the world and even managed to survive going toe-to-toe with Russia—was Romano's safest bet in this strange new place. He shuffled around in his pocket, and was relieved to find that he had a spare white flag on him. At least he had something of his own he could use.

Finally, after a long silent journey that managed to set all of Romano's nerves on edge, they stopped in an open room that held two thrones in the back. Sitting in one of the thrones was a wrinkly old man, dressed in regal clothing, with so much light hair in his long beard and in his ears, though none on his head. Of course, he was grayed out, just like everything else in this place.

He looked up at the group as they came to a stop before him, though his face remained neutral—just like Lu's. "Welcome," he greeted, as Lu gave him a quick bow. "Welcome to the Castle of Mierda; I am King Fanny."

America and Romano just stared at him, shocked. Then they looked to each other. Then… then America fell to the ground, laughing hysterically.

"Oh—oh god! Haha—man, shit, that's—that's so—! I knew it! Fuck, England always did get so elaborate with his pranks."

Despite America's outburst, Romano still felt dread. That explanation just didn't seem to suit this, and his suspicions were confirmed by the king's reply, "England? Who is that?"

"Oh, Arthur, then," America said, finally back on his feet and normal again. "You know, massive eyebrows, messed-up hair? Oh, you don't have to play dumb anymore, he had me going for a little bit there. Just for a really, tiny bit. But the jig's up!"

Lu stepped before them and cleared her throat. "There is no England," she began, addressing the two countries. "As I said to you earlier, Mister America, this world is different from the one you're from. I'm not sure how different our worlds are, but certainly… you two are not from here. All your friends, places you know, they belong in the place you left behind."

Romano froze and his blood chilled. Their world, she said… it was _left behind?_

Was he stuck here, in this colorless place? No more Veneziano, Mediterranean sea, Italian weather, pizza, tomatoes, _fuck_, even just the color red?

"So," America said, folding his arms over his chest, "why are we here?"

Lu responded, "I summoned you here. Our world is sustained by the power of the seven Ether Crystals, and for some reason, their power has been fading recently. We had some reserves of magic stored in case of emergency, and used the last of it for a spell that can call forth a pair of fearless heroes."

"Then that means, I—the two of us—we get to be the heroes?"

"No!" Romano snapped, finally able to participate in reality again. "No, this is just stupid! It's buillshit! You expect me to believe this shit? Go along with it? Where are we, really? I'm sick of this, and I'm going home, dammit!"

"You can't go home," Lu said, calmly, and it made Romano's blood flare. "The Ether Crystals are everything. They are the source of our magic. We cannot send you back home until they are restored. Furthermore—"

"_Bullshit_, this is bullshit!"

"—furthermore, they're getting worse. Listen carefully. Our world used to have colors. We had emotions once. But they have all faded. Our weather has calmed. No more hot or cold. It's getting worse."

"Why the fuck should I care?"

"Hey, South Italy—" America tried, but he was cut off by a hard glare from Lu.

The glare lasted only a moment before her face relaxed again, any trace of anger gone as though it were never there. "You should care. If our world dies while you're in it, what do you think will happen to you?"

"Why you—" Romano was ready to punch her, cry, kick the thrones down, anything, _anything_—

"Hey, South Italy! You know what this means!" America suddenly said, and that obnoxious cheer his voice usually held was back. "We're the heroes! And you get to work with the number one hero! Which would be me, if you were wondering." He laughed, pulled his stupid bomber jacket off, and wrapped it around Romano's shoulders.

Romano glared at the oversized, stupid thing. America had a tight grip on it, and dammit, he couldn't really move his arms like this. He shot his glare up to America and said, "The fuck do you think you're doing?"

"You looked cold! I just did what a true hero would."

"Well, I'm fucking _fine_, so get this stupid thing off—"

"You have a funny way of being excited! Come on, we're going to get to save the day!" America slung his arm around Romano's shoulders and made grandiose gestures with his other one as he explained. "We'll save the whole world, and when we see everyone else, we'll get to brag about how awesome we were. Shit, even Prussia will have to admit it, won't he?"

The jacket was soft on the inside, smelled like leather, and… Romano noticed that he was feeling less wild, and more warm.

"So, South Italy? Whaddaya say?" America had a huge grin and loosened his grip.

"...Call me Romano, bastard. South Italy sounds weird." Then Romano realized how this whole scene appeared on the outside, with him cuddled up in America's jacket, and _shit fuck stop having feelings, loser, _and he swiftly swung the jacket off and held it up to America. "And seriously, I'm not fucking cold, asshole!"

America just laughed as he shrugged it back on, and then flashed a thumbs-up to Lu and King Fanny.

After which he had to explain to them what the thumbs-up gesture meant, and _finally_ after that, Lu led them out of the throne room to prepare for their adventure, or whatever.

As they walked, Romano was trying (and failing) to come to terms with the idea that they were really in a different world. '_All right, Romano, just focus on breathing...'_ Blowing a gasket was really not going to help anyone.

'_For now, just play along. Follow along with the others. No matter what, make sure to stick with America...'_

* * *

**Author's Notes:**

* * *

**Translation/culture/whatever notes:**

**Mierda**: It's Spanish for "shit". I figure that both America and Romano would at least know bits of Spanish, and if there's any part of the language they'll go out of their way to learn, it'd be the bad words.

**Fanny:** English word, and in America, it's just the cutest, most babyish way to say "butt"! But I hear in England, it's actually a super dirty way of saying "vagina"...

Lu doesn't mean anything, by the way. I just thought it was a cool name!

**Notes on Hetalia for my friends who don't know much about the show, but they're still reading this because they are supremely awesome people:** While all the other countries are just represented by one character (so, just one America, for example), there's two Italies: a north one, and a south one. The north one, sometimes called Veneziano, and sometimes just called Italy because he's like the default, is the character the show is named after! He's pretty spineless and carefree, and tends to be adored by others. South Italy, usually just called Romano, also has a cowardly streak, but he's foul-mouthed and more isolated from the others than the north is. And, by the way, the two Italies are brothers.

And the England-Arthur thing? At some point, the author officially released human names for the major Hetalia characters, saying that those were the names they used in public, so that it wouldn't sound weird that they're openly calling each other countries. As you may have guessed, Arthur would be England! Just about anyone who spends like a few days in the Hetalia fandom will already know these names by heart. Aw yeah!

**Extra notes: **I can't believe I've written this! Ahhh it still feels a little weird. I was working on a Romerica fic for NaNoWriMo, got royally stuck on what to do, but I still had all this Romerica steam I needed to blow off! So, I just... got this idea somehow and started writing. I want this to be a story where I just go along with what comes to mind and write it as I think it, because it's good to just get _something_ out there! So I don't really know what'll happen next, but I'll try and throw something up here! Soon enough, I hope.

Ah, and for anyone interested, my name on tumblr is aviyah-halpern. Until next time, everyone!


	2. First Stop is the Golden Crystal

"Hey, Romano, you ready to go?"

"Nnf." Romano rolled over and swatted at the stupid hand trying to shake him, still not opening his eyes. "Five more minutes... asshole."

"Come on, we gotta get a move on! The world isn't going to save itself."

"...what." Romano finally peeked an eye open and—shit! America!? And they were hanging out in some forest that had no color... Oh. _Oh_. That's right.

As Romano sat up and rubbed the sleep out of his eyes, it all came back to him; being stuck with America, in some other world, where they had to bring back all the colors and shit... right.

After the meeting with King Fanny (pfft), Lu led the two nations out of the throne room to prepare them for their journey. She gave them a map indicating where all the crystals were, as well as some magic bag that was infinitely large on the inside. Of course, Romano insisted on being the one to hang on to those things; he didn't think America could carry them for more than two days without losing them.

After a moment, Romano spoke up again. "It's still hard to believe we're in some... some alternate world, or some shit like that."

"Yeah, I know... But you do believe it, right? I mean, just from—"

"_Yes_, bastard, I _do_ believe it! Shit, you don't need to explain it all to me." Even without the lack of colors around them, and without the magical bag he was holding onto, Romano could still tell they were in a different world; deep down, it just didn't feel like they were on Earth anymore. As a nation, he could sense these things! And he was pretty sure that America, dense as he was, could also feel it.

"Just making sure, man!" America said, cutting into Romano's musings. "You didn't look too certain in the throne room back there."

"Shut the fuck up."

America waved it off with a hand. "Hey, whatever, it's all cool. Anyway, let's have a look at that map!"

Romano grumbled under his breath as he pulled out the map. He didn't like taking orders, especially from an idiot like America… but this _was_ the sensible thing to do. By the time he had it unfolded, America just plopped on the ground next to him. And... their shoulders were touching. Romano could feel warmth shoot up his spine, and _come on, quit it already!_ Shit, he didn't want to deal with this the whole time he'd be stuck here with this moron!

America's hand suddenly shot across his vision, pointing somewhere on the map. "So this is where we started, right? Castle... Pfff. Mier—"

"Yes, Castle Mierda, bastard." Romano swatted away America's hand and pointed to a nearby spot. "And this area is where we are now." Looking at the map again now, Romano could see... those damn crystals were fucking scattered. It looked like they'd have to travel around some small continent before they could reach all of them... god dammit.

"I say we find the crystal that restores everyone's happiness first!"

"Are you fucking kidding me!? What if it's way the fuck out in the middle of fucking nowhere!? We're going to the closest one first, you burger brained dumbass!"

America hummed in thought as he looked back at the map. "...Well, would you look at that! The crystal for happiness _is_ the closest one! It's right here, the Golden Crystal. I asked Lu about it before we left!"

"Bastard," Romano said, once again swatting away America's hand and calming his stupid feelings. "Why are you so fucking set on that one, anyway?"

"Because, happiness is the most important thing! So we should definitely restore that one first!"

Romano just scoffed at that. He supposed that made sense, coming from the nation who always had a fucking smile on his face. "Whatever. Let's just get this shit over with."

At that, they both stood and continued through the forest, towards the Golden Crystal—apparently housed in a city called Felicity.

* * *

Two days later, they finally arrived at the city, and it couldn't come soon enough for Romano. He had to live off of America's shitty chocolate the whole time—which, by the way, the bastard seemed to have an endless supply of it stuffed in his uniform, somehow—and generally live out in the middle of the woods. _Gross._ At the very least, Romano could be grateful that America was knowledgeable (and all too excited) about camping, so he didn't have to deal with setting up the tough shit… but _still_. His uniform was all ruined now! He frowned as he tucked away some frayed strands of thread; it still looked like a military uniform on the outside, but decades ago, Romano started attending the meetings in imitations made of finer fabric, and more flattering tailoring.

As for the city of Felicity? Romano took a good look around: it was magnificent! ...Or, at least, it seemed that it used to be that way. The ground was fully paved with bricks, the buildings housed large and intricately designed windows, and the fountains they passed held nice statues, mostly of smiling women. On the other hand… the walkways appeared eerily large, with barely anyone bustling about in the city; the beautiful windows had grime caked on throughout their curving panes; and the fountains were still, their spouts looking dirty, and the water they held, dark and stagnant.

Romano felt relieved when America found a tavern nearby, and it actually had someone inside. If everyone in the world stopped having emotions… then, Romano reasoned, they were probably all indoors, instead of outside doing… normal outside things.

It was too bad, though, that the barkeeper was the only person inside. He was sitting on the other side of the counter, head down in his arms, and for a moment Romano wondered if he was dead. At the sound of the door closing and footsteps, however, the man raised his head, looking bleary.

Without waiting for a greeting, the nations sat at the counter, and America explained, "Hey, we're looking for the Golden Crystal. It's supposed to be in this city—you know anything about it?"

The man blinked slowly, looking like he never saw another human in his life until now. Finally, in a somewhat raspy voice, he answered, "...Yes. It is Felicity's number one attraction… why do you ask?" Romano held back a groan—this fucker spoke slower than a snail.

"We're trying to recharge it! Or something like that. Where is it?"

"Hm… it is sitting in a dedicated shrine, just outside of Felicity. If you go north, you will find the forest trail that leads directly to it."

"Awesome! Then, what are we waiting for? Let's go, Romano!" The moment America got up, however, a loud rumble rang out. His face fell for a moment and he added, "although, I could sure go for a burger right about now…"

"Tch, stupid bastard. Does anyone in this world even know what a burger is?" Romano snapped, also getting up.

His plans to crush America's hopes and dreams fell apart, though, as the barkeeper spoke up. "I know what a burger is. The burgers of Felicity are our second largest attraction. Shall I make one up for you?"

"Oh, hell yes!" America said, promptly sitting back down. "It's been too long!"

"...What." Romano shot the other nation a glare. "We have some important hero shit to do, or whatever you call it, and you're just going to sit here and eat a damn burger?"

"Hey, the Crystal will still be there when I'm done! Come on, man, as awesome as Hershey's is, even I can't survive on that alone!"

"And what the hell am I supposed to do?! I don't want a damn burger!"

"I dunno. Order something else?"

Romano eyed the barkeeper, as well as any of the preparation equipment he could see from the bar. Obviously, this place hadn't seen business for a while, and also obviously, the barkeeper no longer had any fucks to give about this place. "I'll pass, bastard. The shit I get here might even be worse than your chocolate, and dammit, I'm not going to chance that experience."

"Well, suit yourself! If you're feeling that antsy, though, why don't you go ahead and find the Crystal on your own? Can't be too hard!"

"_Fine_, asshole. I'll go and actually get the fucking thing we need. I hope you choke on your burger, bastard." And with that, Romano stormed out of the building, and towards the north.

* * *

Just as expected, there was a trail through some more forest leading out of the north of town. It appeared to have been scenic in its glory days, though now, with its wilting flowers and general silence, it was just depressing.

Also, as Romano soon learned, the trail was fucking _long_. Fuck. About ten minutes in, he still couldn't spot any shrines behind the thick foliage, and—wait.

Romano stopped and tried focusing on the sounds around him. It was dead silent here, but he thought he heard—there they were again! The distinct sound of footsteps.

They grew louder, and soon enough, they were accompanied by a light and effeminate laugh.

"Well, hello there. You don't look like you're from around here," the feminine voice said. It was oozing with sweetness, but it just didn't sound right, it sounded as though… Russia had said it. If he were a woman, that is.

Romano turned around and saw two people emerge from the dense forest; one was a tall man with a bald head and an impressively curled mustache, while the other was a cute woman all dressed in frills and ribbons. Oddly enough… they weren't grayed out. Their chilling red eyes made that much clear… _shit_. Romano didn't like the look of those eyes.

"What's it to you?" he asked, turning to face the newcomers and backing away.

The girl giggled. "You just look like a pest, that's all. Klein, let's squish the icky bug!"

Romano frowned—he wasn't an icky bug! He was a handsome and romantic Ital—shit! Romano turned and bolted for the forest as soon as the large man moved towards him. As good as Romano was at running away, though, the forest proved to be too thick, and he couldn't get a good head start through all the damn trees. Just as he was trying to find a dark spot to hide in, he could feel something pull on the back of his collar, and—_whoosh!_ He was easily pulled through the air and back out in the open.

Romano struggled to hang onto his uniform's collar and _breathe, dammit_, as Klein held him up about a foot above ground.

Below him, the girl giggled. "Good night, little buggy," she sang out, and in the next moment, everything went black.

* * *

**Author's Notes:**

* * *

No cultural notes or whatever that I can think of this time. Klein is simply the name of a mathematician, because when I'm stuck on names, that's where I turn to! Also, I freely admit, I love that character archetype of a cute girl in cute clothes who's actually super evil. Nui Harime and Diane Makepeace are awesome examples that come to mind~

I spent so long on this chapter just overthinking things! My brain needs to stop doing that. I'm hoping to get better about that, the more I write!

Until next time, folks! I hope all of you have a lovely day~


	3. Know Thy Enemy

When Romano awoke, he found himself sitting up... and also, tied to a chair. He saw that he was somewhere indoors now, and… _of course_. Those two strangers from earlier were here, too.

"Well, hello there, little buggy. Did you sleep well?" the girl asked, once she noticed the nation was awake.

"...'m not a bug," Romano managed to grunt out. He had no idea where he was now.

"Sure you are! You even have a little feeler riii~iight here~!" She pulled on Romano's flyaway curl, _hard_, and he winced. Thankfully, she let go soon after, and pointed over to the large man behind her. "Should I have Klein over there squash you with his fists?"

"...what?"

The girl giggled and ruffled Romano's hair. "Oh, your face! It's been so long since I've met someone who can actually… react. Killing you is going to be so much fun~!"

"Wait—shit—killing!?"

"Your hair is so nice, you know?" She ran a hand through his soft locks. "I don't know if I've ever met anyone with hair so nice! Maybe I should, oh… cut it all off before I kill you~?"

"Not the hair!" And already, Romano could feel the tears gushing out.

Again, the girl giggled. "That certainly sounds like an invitation to cut your hair. And I know Klein has some of his own lovely ideas on what to do with you~!"

"P-please don't kill me and cut off my hair!" Romano struggled against his restraints as he instinctively tried to flail his arms. "It's really not as fun as you think! A-and, and I still have so much more to live for!"

"Oh, you're such a funny little buggy~! Please, do—"

"Ah, shit, I still need to get back at that potato bastard! My stupid brother was going to let him stay over at our place, and I bought some markers to draw a mustache on him in his sleep—fucker sleeps pretty heavy after some beers—and maybe try to shut off the hot water when he showers—"

"...what?"

"Shit, and how long has it been since I've had a pizza? Or even a good lay! Fuck, I thought I could meet a nice girl after the meeting and all, but—"

"My, you like to talk! Maybe I should cut out your tongue, and—"

"Nonono, not the tongue! I need that for eating! And cursing out the potato bastard!"

"Well, I think I—"

"Fuck, and then there was that new recipe I wanted to try, I just needed to wait for the tomatoes to ripen!"

"Just—_shut up_ already!"

Romano whimpered. "Don't… don't you know I have relatives from here? Please don't kill me!"

The girl glared at him for a moment, waiting to see if he had anything else to say. When it seemed that he would stay quiet, she replied, "And why should I care at all about you or your relatives?"

"You should care, because, um… because… my relatives are very important!"

"Oh, please, enlighten me, then. Who are you related to who must be soooo important?"

"Um. Yes. Right. My relatives. Well, uh, one of them is a guy... named... An...to...?"

She raised an eyebrow at the name he fumbled on.

"...ni…?"

Recognition, now?

"...o?"

Definitely recognition! ...And then, disbelief. "Are you kidding? Antonio, you said?"

"...Yes? Or… no?"

"You mean to tell me that you—_you!_— are related to Antonio? Felicity's greatest war hero?"

"Um… yes! Sort of? I mean, he used to be, uh, my boss? Caretaker? ...The fuck would I know?"

"You're kidding. You're trying to tell me Antonio, _the_ Antonio the Red Axe, used to be your caretaker?"

An axe...? "Oh, yeah, definitely! Definitely, yes, him and that axe. Yup. Loved to, uh, show it off to me. Swing it around and everything."

"Is that so?"

"Yeah, it's so! And, you know, he used to tell me all kinds of interesting stories! Stories, about, you know…"

"...how he wanted to kill his enemies in the most grotesque ways possible?"

This world's Antonio sounded eerily close to his Spain, in a way. "Yes! Exactly. Like, um, there was this one time, when he told me how he wanted to cut off some guy's eyebrows with his axe…"

"Oh, do tell!" Suddenly the girl seemed genuinely interested, and she pulled up a chair to listen to Romano. Behind her, the ever silent Klein also leaned forward with interest. "But wait—how rude! We haven't even formally introduced ourselves yet. My name is Lindy, and the big quiet guy over there is my brother, Klein!"

"N-nice to… meet you? I'm, uh, Romano." Shit, should he have really just told her his name?

"Oh, look, this must be so awkward for you. Here, let me get those ropes off."

"Oh… yeah! Of course. Heh. I can let you off the hook for all this, since you're such a pretty lady." Holy hell, the I-have-relatives-from-there excuse actually worked for once! Fuck yeah! ...Of course, that excuse was _always_ fairly reliable, dammit. Anyway, with his bonds now gone, Romano could see himself just talking his way out of here, nice and unharmed. Score one for blatant lying!

"So, did you come here to visit his memorial? Oh, Klein and I are such big admirers of Antonio! His gruesome ways of killing were quite popular news in the demon world."

"...Demon world?"

"Oh, yes! Klein and I are demons too, you know. All of us were sealed in the underworld for a thousand years—but I guess, you overworlders have forgotten aaaall about it by now~!"

"Yeah, don't you know! Totally didn't know about any of that. So, uh… what brings you here now?"

"Hee hee. Well. After a thousand years, the seal was finally weak enough for us to break through! Klein and I were sent out to harvest more energy for the demon world. Don't worry, though—as an honor towards the late Antonio, we'll spare your life in the great uprising that's to come!"

"Harvesting energy?" Finally, things were clicking into place for Romano. "So, the deal with all the crystals, then…"

"That's right~! We're getting our energy straight from the source! Actually, that's why we wanted to kill you at first. We thought that maybe, the overworlders managed to summon a hero from another dimension!"

"That's… oddly specific."

"Well, you know, they'd need someone from a different world by now." Then she waved her hand dismissively. "But what am I going on about now? This is boring! Tell me ~all~ about Antonio!"

"Right, right! Antonio! And… his axe!"

"_Romano!_"

All heads in the room turned to the source of the new voice: America, running in through the open doorway. At the sight of the blond, Romano could feel the pit of his stomach sinking, for some reason.

"There you are, Romano!" America called out. "I thought I heard voices coming from here!" Belatedly, he seemed to realize that there were two other people in the room, and he sent them a quick wave and a smile. "Anyway, I need you to check this out, Romano! It's serious!" He held out a partly-eaten, colorless burger.

"Fuck no," Romano replied.

"I mean it, dude! This is a really big deal!"

Romano shot America a glare. God, the bastard could be overbearing. He snapped the burger out of America's hands and saw the blond encourage him to continue. Shit, he didn't seriously want Romano to… oh wait. Now he was making eating gestures with his hands. _Of course_ the bastard would want him to take a bite out of this… thing. As much as Romano didn't like burgers, even he'd feel bad for them if he lumped this colorless food in with the rest of the burgers.

"Hey—! Excuse me! We were having a conversation!" Lindy stomped her foot and glared at America.

"Dude, just one second!" he said, and then looked back to Romano.

Reluctantly, Romano took a bite out, and—_shit!_ Disgusting! He spat it right back out. "What the fuck, America!?"

"_I know! _That's what I'm saying too!"

"Hey! Don't just dismiss me like that!" The girl called out.

"It has no fucking flavor! Not even… gross burger flavor! ...Although I thought you liked bland food, America. And, shit…" Romano opened the burger and watched as some grainy stuff fell out of it. "The fuck is this shit? Is sand part of the Felicity specialty?"

"Oh, that's salt! I tried putting some on there to give it some flavor, you know?"

"Just how much do you normally use, asshole?"

"_Hey! _Pay attention to me!" Lindy was standing next to them now, shouting and waving her arms.

She pulled on Romano's shoulder, and that's when it dawned on him: "Wait… this world… all the flavors are missing too? Everything… just tastes like nothing?" He could feel the blood drain from his face.

"I know! Isn't it horrible? My god…" America shook his head, and for once, he looked solemn.

"Listen to me when I'm talking!" Lindy smacked America's shoulder, but it seemed to have no effect. "Just who are you? And why are you so surprised about the food, it's been that way for a while now!"

"Huh? ...Oh!" America finally noticed Lindy, and as he prepared to strike one of his usual poses, that sinking feeling returned to Romano. "I'm America!" He held a thumbs-up and had a gleaming white grin on his face. "And I'm the hero!"

"Hold on! Did you say… you're the hero?" The girl turned to Romano. "And _you_, you know him?"

"...What? No! No, of course not! Never saw this bastard before in my life! Ha, ha ha…" Romano tried, wearing a strained smile.

To which America gave him a hearty pat on the shoulder (nearly knocking him over) and said, "Don't be so modest, dude! It's okay to brag about being my sidekick!"

The girl frowned deeper than Romano had seen up to that point, and he could've sworn the very air around her was growing dark. "Soooo… you're heroes, after all? Sent to restore the Ether Crystals, then?"

"You got it! By the way, while we're talking about Ether Crystals, I found this on the way here!" America pulled a blossom-shaped crystal out of his pocket and showed it to Romano; a dim yellow light glowed from inside. "Pretty sure this is the Golden Crystal!"

"The fuck? Where did you find that?" Romano said.

"Haha! Weren't you paying attention on the way in? We're in the Crystal's shrine right now!" America let out an appreciative whistle as he glanced around. "Nice place you got here, by the way!"

Romano finally took a good look around for himself. If this place was anything like the churches in his home world… then he could guess they were in a back room somewhere, where priests prepared for ceremonies and the like. He turned back to the other nation, and just managed to catch that Klein had approached him—"America, look out!"

But it was too late; a loud snap resounded through the room, and Romano watched helplessly as Klein's fist connected with America's face.

And then… nothing happened?

America didn't budge. Instead, he lowered Klein's fist with one hand, and used the other to readjust his glasses. "Hey, man, watch the Texas," he said, frowning at the other man. "What was that even for, dude?" His only reply was the demons' shocked faces, and after a moment, he got into a more defensive stance, fists raised. "What, you're bored? Wanna spar?" He wore a stupid fucking smirk on his face, and Romano couldn't help smacking his own forehead; the fucking moron still didn't understand the situation they were in!

"...Spar, what? I mean—_no_, we don't want to spar!" Lindy said, finally snapping out of it. "Listen up! We're demons, sent here to steal the Crystals' energy and bring the coming of our race to this world!"

"Seriously? You know that it's slowly killing the people here—"

"_Yes_ we know that, and honestly—!" She took a deep breath, and that creepy smile finally returned to her face. "Honestly, we don't care. I can't wait to see the day when we destroy every living thing up here and take this world for ourselves. It's too bad, though—without their emotions here any more, I won't be able to see their faces twist in pain as I slowly murder them."

"...Damn, dude. Now you sound like Russia."

"I don't care! The first deaths in our uprising will be you two interlopers! Klein, come on!"

The girl waved him on, and in a moment, he swung another hook at America's face.

This time, however, America caught the fist with one hand. And with the other, he sent a clean punch to Klein's face, knocking the demon clear off his feet. After a moment, it was clear that Klein wasn't going to wake up any time soon, and America's posture relaxed. "Geeze, he's pretty weak for such a big demon."

Lindy ran to her brother's side, fell to her knees, and started shaking his shoulders. "Klein, wake up! Come on!"

"So, uh..." America cleared his throat awkwardly. "You need a face-punching too?"

"America! You wouldn't dare—not to a lady!" Romano hissed.

"Hey, if that lady is some hell demon who's trying to kill me, then... Well, yeah!"

The girl looked up to both of them, bitterness clear in her eyes. "I won't forget this. Mark my words. I'll let you get away this time, but I swear... Klein and I will have our revenge next time!"

A shiver ran down Romano's spine. That did not sound good... _Shit_.

"Wow, now you sound like a real villain!" America said, and Romano refused to admit that he heard any appreciation in the other's voice. "Anyway, I guess we can go for now! Come on Romano, let's get out of here." When the Italian didn't move right away, America gently tugged him along out of the room.

As they made their way out of the temple, America withdrew the crystal from his pocket again. "Well, so it was pretty easy to find! But you know, now that I think about it... Now what? How do we get it to work again? Any ideas?"

For a moment, Romano was completely silent, unable to organize his jumbled thoughts into words. Finally, one idea became clear in his mind, and he turned to America with a frown. "You're a fucking moron."

"... Right. Guess we'll have to ask around, then! Here, you hang onto this for now." America handed the crystal over to Romano, who stuck it in his magic bag. With that, they headed back to the city, and Romano was definitely not looking forward to the work they had ahead.

* * *

**Author's Notes:**

* * *

**Cultural/Translation Notes:**

Once again, not much to say here this time! Lindy is also named after a mathematician, sort of; named after Ernst Leonard Lindelöf, who I know about because I studied a little about Lindelöf spaces in topology. Man… Lindelöf. Lindelöf. I like that name!

I feel bad for the bland reputation American food has. I guess since I've lived in the US all my life, I'm a bit biased… but still! McDonald's is totally delicious! And there's actually a huge variety of restaurants and regional differences and all that stuff throughout the country… I think anyone can find something they like, even if it takes some asking around!

**Notes for my Awesome Friends who Don't Watch Hetalia: **

Antonio is Spain, and Spain was Romano's caretaker back when Romano was a little kid. Jokingly, Spain would refer to himself as the boss, and Romano as his henchman. Even though Romano's actual brother is North Italy, I think Spain would be the closest person to him, considering all the time the Italy brothers spent apart. And that's why Antonio would be the first relative name that Romano thinks of!

Spain is normally a cheery guy, but he can be pretty scary when he's mad! And he's known to have a battle axe. Considering the horrible rivalry he had with England (aka distinct eyebrows guy) in the past, I can just imagine Romano overhearing Spain whispering under his breath about all the horrible things he wanted to do to England and his eyebrows...

"Please don't kill me! I have relatives from your country!" Both Italies are known for saying this kind of thing to any of their attackers, in an attempt to not get beaten up/killed. Also, when Romano mentions the potato bastard, he's talking about Germany. He's not very happy with how close his brother and Germany have become...

Also, canonically, America is ridiculously strong. Like, superhero strong! And the guy's already been in quite a few wars and had to live through the western expansion not too long ago… in my mind, at least, America is seriously not a guy you'd want to get in a fistfight with.

**Other notes:**

Well, hello again everyone! Here's chapter three! I actually knew pretty much what I wanted to do here, but… damn real life got in the way! Nothing horrible or earth-shattering, but it did just keep me away from writing. I'm hoping the next one won't be too long!

Also, I love personally replying to reviews, but I don't like to use author's notes to do it! If you want a reply (and I guarantee you'll get one if you review XD), then please log in so I can send a direct reply! At least, on fanfic-dot-net. Not sure if I can make reply threads on AO3 with anonymous reviews.

In reply to the guest review I got last time, though—no, I didn't know that about the FDA! It's pretty interesting, though. Glad you're looking forward to more Romerica as much as I am~!

Until next time, everyone!


	4. Not a Happy Camper

It was afternoon, and Romano was sitting in a tavern, waiting for America to show up. He was drinking something that he was pretty sure had some alcohol, but of course, he couldn't fucking taste anything, dammit. He wasn't about to trust the water in this world any time soon, though...

On the table in front of him was the dull and dim Golden Crystal. It looked like a carnation blossom in crystal form.

"Hey Romano! I'm here!" America called out, finally entering the tavern. Took the bastard long enough. He grabbed a drink for himself and took the seat opposite of Romano at the table. "Time to compare info! Let's see… An old lady told me that her husband proposed to her in front of that Crystal like fifty years ago! Isn't that sweet?"

"Oh. Yes. _Very sweet,_" Romano replied, and his sarcasm could almost be considered tangible. "Did you find any _useful_ information, moron?"

"Hm… Nope!" And then America punctuated that annoying statement with an annoying slurp of Unknown Drink.

Romano huffed and leaned back in his seat. "Well, that fucking figures. From what I heard, our best bet would be to ask a priestess of the shrine."

"Oh yeah? And where could we find her?"

"That's the thing!" Romano sat up and waved his hands for emphasis. "This shitty city hasn't had a priestess for _decades_! Even before all this Crystal bullshit went down!"

"Huh. That sucks."

"Yes, America, _that sucks_. The fuck are we supposed to do now? Look through the library? _The whole fucking library_? Because God knows that no one works there anymore!"

"Well… why don't we just go on ahead to the next Crystal? Maybe there'll be a priestess there who can help!"

"Are you fucking serious? That—! Wait." Romano paused and blinked up at America. "That suggestion was actually reasonable."

"Of course! Why do you sound so surprised, man?"

"The fuck kind of question is that? Do you even remember the bullshit you spout at the meetings?"

"Oh yeah! Yeah, haha. Those are great!" When he saw Romano's scowl deepen, America continued, "Come on, do you think anyone besides Germany takes those meetings seriously? I'm pretty sure you don't, either."

"...Fair point."

"There you go! Now come on, let's see where the next Crystal is."

Begrudgingly, Romano pulled out the map; he frowned after giving it a good look. "...The next closest one is fucking far."

"Oh yeah?"

"Looks like it'll take several weeks..."

"Whew! Damn. Guess we better get ready for the trip, huh?" Romano simply groaned in agony. "It shouldn't be too hard, with that magic infinity bag of yours! Why don't you pick up food and supplies we can take along on the journey? I'll see if we can't take some horses with us to help!"

"Horses...?" Romano hadn't thought about that.

"Yeah, man! I bet they've got some stables around here. I'm really good with horses, you know?"

Romano snorted, fighting down the blush that was creeping up his neck. "Yeah, bastard, I know." It's not like Romano helped make a bunch of westerns back in the day. Or generally obsessed over America's cowboys at all. Or fantasized about America himself being a cowboy after that one rodeo the Italian brothers were invited to...

No, of course not. That'd be fucking stupid, dammit!

"...Yo, you okay? Mission control to Romano?" America snapped his fingers in front of Romano's face a few times.

"_Shit_ what—the fuck do chaps have to do with this?!"

"Chaps? Uh... nothing?" America had a confused look on his face, and Romano wasn't going to mentally describe it as cute any time soon, but... fine, fuck it. His face was cute.

"...Exactly! They have nothing to do with what we were talking about or even thinking about just now. I was just, you know... testing you! Good job passing, you... you... deep-fried, burger shoveling, uh... assface."

"Hahaha! Whatever you say, man."

* * *

"Hey there. How about a treat? A nice and tasty treat?" America cooed, holding up some colorless treat to a colorless horse. Romano rolled his eyes as the horse barely took notice of America. After a moment, it simply snorted and turned to pay attention to... fuck if Romano knew. Probably a piece of hay or something.

"Good job, America. We're still stuck here without any horses," Romano said. It was the next day, and they were hoping to leave by now... but America was still stuck on getting any of the horses to work with him.

"Hey, it's not my fault, man! The horses here are all just as bored as the people..." America stepped out of the horse's stall and shut the gate behind him. "What about you? Did you get food and stuff?"

"Of course I did!" Romano patted the bag slung over his shoulder.

"Sweet! Lemme have a look!" Without waiting for a reply, America approached Romano and opened the bag; he dug around inside for a few moments before he finally found some food and withdrew it.

When America saw what he grabbed, he frowned. "Dude. This is flour."

"For making pizza, dumbass!"

"Uh… you know, we can't exactly make pizza out in the woods…"

"Says you! Tasteless bastard."

America tilted his head to the side, seeming to consider what Romano said. And then he replied, "...you know it's not gonna taste like anything anyway, right? None of the food has flavor."

"..._Shit_. I forgot! Fuck."

America slipped the flour back in the bag and gave Romano a little pat on the shoulder. "I know your cooking is supposed to be amazing and all… but not much we can do now, right?"

"Shut up."

"Anyway, we just need to grab something that'll keep while we're out there!" America spared another glance at the listless horses. "Especially because I think we're gonna have to walk after all."

* * *

America took the lead then in getting supplies for the trip—food, drink, bedrolls, anything he thought they needed. At the very least, Romano could appreciate that the shopkeepers were currently too apathetic to care whether their stores got raided—though of course, America would politely ask every time whether it was okay to take things.

For all of the proper supplies that America picked up, however… nothing could prepare Romano for the actual trip. For the toll that he would take from being in this lifeless world for even a few weeks.

The first week was awful for Romano. It was just... camping. And eating nothing but tasteless food, in a colorless world with no weather.

By the second week, Romano was starting to feel fatigued, just in general all the time. Even though they stopped at a town with actual soft beds for a night, Romano could only feel his spirits drop. Despite their efforts and asking around, the pair was still no closer to reactivating the Crystal, and just… what if they could never figure it out? What if this world was too far gone to even help them anymore? And the food was really getting to Romano at this point… it was so tasteless that it was unsatisfying, and lately he'd just been feeling constantly hungry and empty on the inside.

Romano started losing track of the days sometime during week three. By this point, America had well learned that Romano wasn't feeling conversational, so he had been surprisingly quiet most of the time. Annoyingly cheerful, but at the very least, quiet.

At first, Romano welcomed the silence. Soon enough, however, he was starting to grow desperate for some conversation—even if it was annoying—just to take his mind off of everything else. So he tried to strike up some discussion or _something_, but despite his best efforts (as lame as his best was in this state), the silence just dragged on and on. _Dammit_.

The only thing Romano could do consistently, besides walking and _more walking_, was think about his home world. In fact, as the days wore on, he kept thinking about it, even when he didn't want to.

Shit, he could just picture Veneziano weeping in the arms of that damn potato muncher. His stupid brother was too attached to Germany. Romano could imagine them going out for some stupid German dessert now, and it would taste so damn nice that Veneziano would give a stupid airheaded smile. (even though his brother had disappeared.)

How long would it take his brother to move on, anyway? They spent so much time apart, and their reunion wasn't exactly anything special… Veneziano was probably closer to Germany and Japan than he was to his own brother, dammit. Not like it really mattered that much—Veneziano was also a fucking moron who cried every time someone tried to get him to be halfway _useful_, so in a way, maybe being separated would be better. At least then Romano couldn't make the idiot cry every damn day.

So maybe Romano wasn't so close to his brother, and okay, _fine_, he could come to terms with that. But he missed Spain, his closest… relative? The fuck would he call Spain, in relation to him, anyway?

God, he was so desperate now, he could actually (internally) admit to missing Spain. It was nice to have someone look out for him and take care of him and actually care to keep in touch.

Although they had been more distant in recent times. Romano supposed that Spain was glad to have him out of the house, no longer messing up the study, making guests feel uncomfortable, and forcing the guy to lose sleep.

Shit, did he ever thank Spain for taking care of him? God he felt like an ingrate. Maybe Spain wasn't always around the house, and maybe he tried a few times to trade Romano for his brother… but fucking shit, could he really blame him? Romano was a shitty kid, and even as an adult, he was an asshole who couldn't give proper thanks to the guy who took care of him for some centuries. Hell, he couldn't even go five minutes in Spain's presence without cursing out the poor guy… and Romano couldn't even remember very well what Spain did that was so annoying in the first place...

Romano blinked out of his miserable thoughts one night when the light of the fire suddenly went out, thanks to America. Bedtime, already. At least, when Romano slept, he couldn't be hungry or depressed. As Romano settled into his bedroll, he tried to give a quick gauge of the time that they spent here by now. Was it still week four, or did they already move into week five? Maybe it was already week six, even… but it couldn't be later than that, right?

"Sweet dreams, dude!" America called out, cheery as ever, and Romano instinctively snapped his head to the side to face the other nation. Fuck, America hasn't shown a single sign of worry or weariness this whole time. Didn't he care about how their world was faring without him? ...Did he think about England at all? Romano couldn't really tell what was up with their relationship… though to be fair, he never cared in the first place. Did America have any other relatives worried about him? Hmm… Maybe? Now Romano was just drawing a blank.

It wasn't long before the thoughts of Veneziano and Spain moving on without him continued their infinite replay. Though... he supposed he shouldn't be selfish. If he could never make it back, then it'd be for the better if they just forgot about him...

The nights here were so damn dark and dead quiet. By now, the makeup of the forest had changed slightly from when they started; the trees were more thin and winding, with sparser canopies. Some moonlight could actually filter in, and every night before he fell asleep, Romano could see stars through the leaves.

Back on Earth, darkness and silence would dominate over life and color in the middle of the night. It was during times like these that this world felt just a tiny bit familiar… familiar enough for Romano to drift off into a fitful sleep...

* * *

He didn't know how he got here, but now Romano was swimming in the middle of the water, actually blue and beautiful. He couldn't tell how deep he was, but somehow… he didn't care. He had no trouble breathing.

Suddenly, there was America, approaching him shirtless, and… with a fish tail? Oh, damn, was he a merman now?

"Hey, Romano, it's great at the bottom of the sea, isn't it?" America said. God, America's stupid blue eyes… they were even more captivating than the ocean.

After a moment, Romano pried his eyes away and glanced up. "We're all the way at the bottom?" He still couldn't tell how far they were.

"Sure are! It's easy if you come prepared." America held his hands out to either side of Romano's face, and suddenly the Italian realized he had some kind of round… casing, or something, around his head.

He couldn't tell what it was made of. He reached up to touch it as America withdrew his hands, but before he could really think about it, America spoke up again: "Hey, Romano, you ever wonder how humans and merfolk do each other in all those legends?"

"...Well fuck, you read my mind, bastard."

"Then I'll show you!" America swam to him and wrapped his tail around Romano's legs, and held his shoulders from behind. "But first I gotta tell you something! Merfolk are super good at lying. So instead of sex, I'm just gonna go ahead and eat your arms now, all right?"

There was a searing pain in his arm, and Romano bolted upright, reflexively shouting curses.

He looked around. He was back in the damn forest now, middle of the night, and his arm had gotten stuck in some gnarled roots. _Fuck, shit, ow._

"Dude, you all right?"

Romano screeched at the familiar voice and felt his heart pick up when he turned and barely saw America's face, lit up in the dim moonlight.

"Hey, calm down!" America reached out, and Romano flinched instinctively.

Until he realized that America was not, in fact, some crazy fucking merman bent on eating his arms. Romano let out a deep breath and finally relaxed. "I'm fine now, bastard."

"Had a nightmare?"

"...Yeah. But whatever, it doesn't matter. Go back to sleep, dumbass." Romano lied back down, rubbing his injured arm. Luckily, it didn't seem to be hurt too badly, and already the pain was wearing off.

The noise of America rustling back into his covers sounded, and for a moment, it seemed like there would be peaceful silence again. But of course… America had to go and ruin it. "You been sleeping okay?"

"Tch. What do you care?"

"Of course I care! You're my sidekick, you can't be tired!"

"I can and I will. Just watch me, bastard." Romano pointedly pulled up his covers and rolled to face away from America. Even though he knew America wouldn't be able to see the gesture in this darkness. It's the thought that counts, dammit!

"Aw, come on, don't be that way. Do you want to sleep with me?"

Romano shot back into a sitting position and glared at the other nation. "What!? The fuck are you getting at!?"

"Hm? I thought maybe it'd help. I, I mean… well, you know… when I was little, and I had a bad dream, I'd, uh... well, I'd go and sleep with England for the night." America said the last part rather quickly.

"... Oh."

"Yeah! Yup! Geeze, haha… you didn't think I meant the other thing, did you?"

"Shut up! It—it doesn't matter, anyway! I'm sleeping on my own, thank you very much! Don't need to get flattened by a fat monster like you during the night."

And then there was silence, and that was that. As Romano settled back into his covers, he could feel his heart sink. Okay, maybe it'd be weird for him to just cuddle with the burger bastard all of a sudden... But shit, he did miss his friends, and general human contact...

Romano didn't know how long the silence dragged on for, and he could've sworn that the other nation was asleep by now… but finally, America spoke up again. "Romano. I get that we weren't exactly friends before all this happened... and I get that you're not exactly my biggest fan, but... well... right now, we only have each other. We'll have to rely on one another to get out of here, you know?"

Romano tightened his grip on the blanket and felt his chest clench and throat dry. What was he supposed to say to that?

"... Romano? You there?"

"Y-yeah. I'm here." Romano rolled over and faced the vague blob of a shadow that he knew was America. "You. Um. ...If… if sleeping next to me is going to make you feel better, then just say so, bastard."

"Ah, right! Haha. I'll keep that in mind for next time, then."

With that, Romano moved his bedroll over and settled back in. He could feel America roll up next to him, even though they were separated by their blankets. At this moment, they probably looked like... like two burritos cuddling up next to each other.

...Shit, Romano, what the fuck kind of comparison was that?

Behind him, Romano heard America hum in pleasure, and then could feel his breath just brush behind his ear. Romano would not admit that it made him feel warm.

"Man, it'd been a while since I could interact with someone who actually has a body temperature. I forgot how nice it felt!"

"Don't get any funny ideas, bastard."

"Haha! I wasn't thinking of it like that. I think you're the one who's got all the funny ideas, Romano."

"Shut up!"

"Hey man, don't worry about it. It just feels nice now, right?"

"...Maybe. I dunno."

America let out a quiet laugh, and Romano could feel the vibrations from it through his blanket. "Come on, you must've shared your bed when you were little, right? At least, when you were scared?"

Romano scoffed. He really didn't want to answer that. But... he could tell that America was reluctant when he himself volunteered that information. And it was true that they'd need to rely on each other, so they'd have to build trust and that sort of shit. "Hm... Yeah, I did do that, bastard. Spain was always there and let me into his bed when I had a nightmare. And before that was Grandpa Rome..."

Remembering the love he got from Spain and Rome was nice for Romano. In the peace and quiet of the night, laying next to America, the nostalgia truly struck him. The way they'd hold up the blanket and smile at him, and it was always so cozy, even when it was cold outside. Spain would stroke his hair and promise to play with him, out in the sun, the next day. Grandpa would tell him how everything was okay and he'd always be there to take care of his grandson...

It was... nice, to think about. Pleasant. Romano didn't think he felt this nice ever since he arrived in this world.

Next to him, America relaxed and let out a breath, which again ruffled Romano's hair. "That sounds really nice. I didn't get to spend a lot of time with England in the end... but, well… the memories aren't all bad, you know?"

It... It made Romano happy to hear that. He knew America had a short childhood and a rough parting from his mentor... so it was good to know that the time wasn't completely bad.

Romano felt so warm on the inside.

And now that he thought about it, he was warm on the outside as well. But it wasn't coming from America...

Simultaneously, the two of them perked up and glanced at the source of the warmth: it was coming from Romano's bag, which currently gave off a yellow glow.

They sat up and Romano pulled the bag over, fishing for the source of the light and warmth. He withdrew the Golden Crystal, which was now brilliantly shining, a golden yellow color, and feeling extremely pleasant to the touch.

"Look at that! It's back!" America said, leaning in for a closer look. "It's nice."

"... Yeah. I wonder why..." Was it because they felt happy just now?

"Hm. Well. Who cares! What matters is that we finally got it working again!" America pulled the Crystal out of Romano's hands and tucked it in the covers, between them. "Also, this is going to make sleeping _awesome_."

At first Romano was at a loss for words, but then... well, shit, the bedroll did feel fucking _heavenly_ now. "You might have a good point."

"'Course I do!" America flopped back into bed and pulled up the covers. "Damn this is great. Good night, Romano!"

Romano's breath hitched, and even though it was the middle of the night, he felt like he was bathing in rays of sunshine. Slowly, he lowered himself back to bed. His throat felt tight again, and he couldn't make himself say anything, even though he wanted to.

For the first time since arriving here, Romano felt truly blissful, and he could drift off to a pleasing and fulfilling sleep.

...Good night to you too, America.

* * *

**Author's Notes:**

* * *

**Translation/Culture/whatever notes:**

Romano sticking with alcohol in the beginning: Not sure how commonly known this is, but the bacteria that contaminates fresh water and causes diarrhea and dysentery and all that fun stuff, can't thrive in alcohols. Back in the day, before on-demand, clean water was a thing, people would mainly drink some type of alcohol.

Romano and his westerns: I heard it was a thing some few decades ago that western movies were really popular in Italy, and that that country made a hell of a shit lot of westerns themselves! Yeah, I'm not so savvy on film knowledge. XD Still though, I will totally take this little bit of information to mean that Romano has totally 100% got a thing for cowboys and watching America do rodeos and like… cowboy stuff! That headcannon can't be tamed, man.

**Extra Notes:**

Nothing particularly unique I can think of this time. But as always, I can't thank you lovely readers enough for sticking with my little story so far! Each of you is an awesome person, and I hope you all enjoy the chapters to come! Until next time~!


	5. Rhapsody in Blue

When the next day came, Romano and America could see how their surroundings changed. Now the various shades of yellow had returned, to all the objects that normally had them. Everything looking like either yellow, or no color, was still fairly bland… but Romano was relieved all the same. One color was better than none at this point.

The air felt different, too. Now it was just warm, and pleasant, like a nice afternoon by the Mediterranean coast. Looking to the map, the pair of them were heading for a coast, actually…

"Hey Romano! Look at these!" America pulled the Italian from his thoughts, holding up some flowers and leaves. The flowers were yellow and bright, and… they were all braided together.

"What the fuck, America? You made a flower crown? Seriously?"

"Yup! I used to do this kinda shit all the time as a kid. I can do it without even looking!" He tossed the crown onto Romano's head (t_hat son of a bitch_) and plucked up some more of the pretty flowers. He then continued walking on, and as if to prove his point, he started weaving it all together without looking down at his hands.

Romano snorted and reflexively stuffed the crown into his bag. "That's nice. And lame."

"What? I thought you were into arts and crafts and all that."

"Bastard, that's my brother you're thinking about."

"Huh. You don't do it yourself? Even a little bit?"

Yes, but Romano wasn't about to let _anyone_, much less this dolt, in on that little fact. The last thing he needed was to have other people looking at his shitty art and… _ugh_… pretend to like it. "Nope. It's stupid, and so are you."

America just shrugged it off and they continued on, towards a town on the coast called Pensa.

* * *

They weren't very far from the town at that point, and it took them less than a week to reach it. The sun was very warm and pleasant in this town, and there were no roads; only soft sand covered the ground.

"Nice! This place is a beach!" America's face lit up, and within moments he had his shoes and socks off. Soon enough, he was handing those off to Romano, passing his jacket, gloves, and tie along as well; the Italian begrudgingly put them away in his bag. "Man, I'm loving this place already! Finding the next Crystal should be—oh!" America cut himself off with a gasp, staring off to… something, in the distance. "Look! I bet that place serves food!"

"...Okay? That's nice." It all tasted the same, and they still had plenty to eat on them...

"Come on, we should get some! The Golden Crystal is back now, something's gotta be different, right?"

"Dumbass, you only think with your stomach! The change is going to be so small, it's not worth going out of our way for it! And besides, we don't have any money. So let's just find a priestess and that Crystal and get the fuck out of here."

"Damn, dude, what crawled into your ass and died? It'll only be a few minutes—they might give away samples or something!"

"Tch, then _you_ go on ahead, asshole."

"Just what I was thinking! Should I grab anything for you?"

Romano's instinct was to say no, but then he realized… he fucking missed flavors. Sure, he was usually picky about what he ate, but if he had the chance now to just taste _something_ after all this time... "Fine, get something for me too, bastard. I'll catch up in a little bit."

"Roger!" America eagerly rolled up his pant legs and sleeves, and then darted off to some building further out.

Romano, in the meantime, looked for a local to speak with. Thankfully, there were people actually milling around out here this time… so things were starting to look a little more normal, at least. He stuffed away his shoes, belt, jacket—everything but his pants and thin shirt—into his bag; then he rolled his pant legs high up and opened his shirt. Time to ask around, dammit.

The first person he saw was sitting on the ground, and that looked fairly typical for a beach… until Romano walked around to face the man, and fucking saw him eating sand. _What the fuck?_

The man had an expression of childish glee on his face, and once he saw Romano, he smiled ever wider and then started talking. Or at least, he tried; his mouth was so stuffed with sand that his words were muffled, and—_disgusting! _He was spitting up sand on Romano!

Romano hopped back, and with a short, "fuck no!", he stalked off to find someone more… _normal._

Next he tried speaking with a woman, but when she turned around, Romano got even more freaked out—she had fresh blood, dripping down the side of her face. "Isn't it wonderful!?" she said, and she grabbed Romano's shoulders, wearing a huge creepy smile on her face. "Look, I can bleed! And I can feel pain! It's a sign that I'm truly living—it's so great to be alive!"

"_Shit!_" Romano shrieked and wriggled out of her grasp, and then he fucking _ran for it_. When he felt that he gained enough distance, he turned back towards the woman, and saw her hit her head repeatedly against the wall.

Okay, seriously, _fuck these Crystals._ The people were way the fuck more normal when they were just apathetic all the time!

Once he calmed his nerves, Romano sighed and reluctantly gave his search another try. It took some few minutes, but finally, he found a man who didn't seem unbearably hyperactive, or injured. Or both, for that matter.

"Hey!" Romano called out to the man, "can you tell me where the Azure Crystal is? And do you have, um, any priestesses around here?"

"Hey there! Wow, you're forward, I like that! Hahaha."

"...Okay." Romano crossed his arms and huffed. Come on, please let this person be halfway normal!

"And so expressive! Wow, I haven't seen anyone like you for a while! You're amazing!"

"...um. Thanks...?"

"Yeah, yeah, you're welcome!" The man gave Romano a hearty pat on the shoulder, and just as the Italian opened his mouth to ask his questions again, the man finally answered. "Yeah, the Azure Crystal! It's at the bottom of the sea, didn't you know? Haha!"

"...No, I didn't know. Asshole." Romano glanced over to the calm waters that he could see from here. "Quit joking around, this is important! Seriously, where is the damn Crystal?"

"Ha! Don't believe me? It's the truth!" Romano's only response was to deepen his frown, so the man continued, "in fact, since you're looking for the priestess, why don't you ask her? She lives in a little house, on that cliff overlooking the sea. Can't miss it! Oh, it's got such a great view…"

Romano could see the cliff from where he was, so at least that was _something_ he could investigate. "...Thanks. I guess." He gave the man a curt nod and headed for the building he saw America run to. Better to regroup before that dumbass wandered out too far, or got lost.

The building had some smoke coming from the top, and based on what Romano could see, it did look like a place to eat. Leave it to the gluttonous moron to zero in on a restaurant the moment they arrived. Well, if the large number of people flocking to the restaurant was any indication, at least this place would be decent. Maybe.

Damn. There really were a lot of people. Too goddamn many. Romano had a hard time shoving past them to get inside. Once he finally made it in, the place was so damn full that he wondered if he'd be able to find America.

Luckily, it wasn't as hard for Romano as he thought it'd be: it turned out that all the people inside were congregating around one area. One person, more like. And of course… that person was America. Motherfucker!

After gratuitous amounts of shoving and elbowing, Romano finally made it to the front of the crowd. And there was America, holding on to a cup and addressing one of the members of the crowd. Currently, he was laughing and running his free hand through his hair, in a way that Romano could immediately tell was showing off. "Actually," America finally said, "I'm a lot older than I look!" Cheers, laughter, and squeals erupted from the people around him, and Romano couldn't help but jump.

"_Son of a bitch!_ America! What the fuck do you think you're doing!?" Romano shouted.

"...Huh? Oh, hey, Romano! Come on up here—I've got some chocolate for you!" America waved the other nation on. "The Golden Crystal brought back the flavor of sweetness, isn't that awesome?"

Reluctantly, Romano joined America; he did not like being surrounded by such a large crowd. He took the drink America offered him and was about to take a sip, when he suddenly remembered all of the rage he felt in the first place. "Wait a damn second! America! Just what the hell is going on here!?"

"Well, all these people got really excited to meet me! I didn't think the whole town would come in here just for me, though, haha!" Stupid fucking braggart. "But I can understand why they're happy to see me—I'm the hero!"

Various cheers and agreements on that swelled from the crowd, and Romano clutched at his cup tighter, feeling an instinctive sort of annoyance. Was this jealousy? Okay, it was probably jealousy. "Hey, everyone, what about me? I'm also one of the Crystal Heroes!" His eyes scanned across the crowd and his frown tightened.

The surrounding people murmured a general sort of agreement—well, yes, there was nothing saying that there weren't two heroes out there trying to help, and Romano was clearly in full color… but then all eyes were back on America.

"America is the perfect example of what a hero should be!"

"He's going to save our world!"

"Oh, America is like a dream come true!"

Romano let out a low growl and felt the instinctive annoyance spike into a fiery rage that exploded in his chest and shot all the way out to his hands and feet. He grabbed onto America's sleeve, and _yanked_, taking some satisfaction in the surprised look the other gave him. "Come on, bastard. We need to get going."

America answered, "But I was thinking—"

"_Now._"

America's mouth snapped shut, and maybe… just maybe, he looked a little sheepish. _Good._ America turned back to face the circle of people around them and waved amicably. "Hey, I'm so glad you all came out to see me! But me and my sidekick here have to go now." The crowd let out a collective sound of disappointment, and America's stupid smile grew wider and more accommodating. "Hero business, you know! Gotta take some time for the important stuff! But don't worry—I'm sure you'll all see me around sometime soon!"

Romano had to consciously keep his trembling fists in check, so he wouldn't _fucking punch something_. Preferably America's face. Did Romano think the bastard ever looked sheepish? Fuck no! Just a mistake in judgment, dammit.

* * *

After Romano had to drag the idiot out of the restaurant by one arm—while America used his other arm to wave at his fans and say nice things to them—they were finally outside and heading towards the priestess's house. It was a little bit of a walk to get there, as her house was built rather far from the rest of the town, but _fuck—_Romano could appreciate the scarce population at this point.

The pleasant weather and warm sand did little to ease Romano's nerves, especially because the lumbering moron next to him was fucking beaming and occasionally humming something stupid under his breath. _Dammit_, Romano thought, _I should have just left this idiot behind and gone alone._ Just because they were both summoned at first, it didn't mean that they both needed to do all this bullshit together all the time, right?

Not even the chocolate drink that America handed him could make him feel better. It was sweet, sure, but that's all it was; it didn't have the full flavor of chocolate. Well, at least it wasn't Hershey's, thank god.

Finally, the pair of them reached the top of the small cliff that overlooked the sea. It really was a nice view from up there. And just as the man said to Romano earlier, there was a house up here—just one, something rather simple and cozy looking. After a few minutes of looking around and knocking on the door, they finally went around to the back and saw a woman relaxing on a long cushioned chair outside.

The woman had long hair, dressed lightly, and seemed blissfully unaware of the other people present. Romano didn't want to bother a pretty lady like her, but oh hey look—America was going to do that for him. _How lovely_.

"Hey there, lady! Are you the priestess?" the blond asked, walking up to her and waving.

The woman was hardly startled; instead she slowly shifted her weight and cracked her eyes open. Was she sleeping just now? "Yes, that's me. Hmmm, I'm Lady Espra. And who are you?" She finally tilted her head towards the nations, but her eyes still looked unfocused. Yeah, she was definitely asleep just now.

"I'm America, and I'm the he—"

Romano shoved America and said, "And I'm Romano. Nice to meet you." Holy shit Romano was sick of hearing about America's stupid hero bullshit.

"Oh, nice to meet you too! But hold on," Espra's senses were finally picking up again, somewhat, and she sat up. "You're both in all color. Are you here to restore the Crystals?"

"Yup! Because… _We're the heroes!_" America declared, and Romano sent him a glare that could melt steel.

"It makes me happy to hear that. Since you're… wait." Espra seemed suddenly taken by something, and she eased herself onto her feet, stepping up to America. He must not have been expecting anything weird to happen, which sort of sucked for him, because Espra then proceeded to slip off his glasses and gently pull his face towards hers. She jerked her head up, and _shit was she going to kiss him—_wait, no, she stopped just short of that, and _seriously what the fuck was going on!? _At least America had the decency to redden and look a little embarrassed.

"Your eyes," she finally said, "they're _beautiful._ It's been so long since I've seen such gorgeous eyes… truly, you are the one to restore our Crystal."

"Uh, um… thanks…" America's breath hitched. He stood stock still and the blush only spread. That fucking bastard.

"Hee, you're so shy. You must have had a hard time moving through town with eyes like those."

"Uh."

"Blue eyes are considered a very attractive trait in Pensa, you see. And yours in particular… they look just like the Azure Crystal…" Espra's smile grew, and she just kept _staring_ into America's eyes, looking as happy as though she just connected with her soulmate or something.

Wait, wait, hold up! The fuck was going on?! And did they just forget about Romano or what?! Seriously, _what the fuck!_

Before Romano could think of a way to interrupt this awkward fucking moment, America finally spoke up again. "U-uh… can I have m-my Tesses back? Texas? G, glasses? Please?"

Espra giggled, and after one final wistful look, she finally backed down and handed America his glasses. "I forget how shy you little humans can be sometimes. Hee hee."

"Uh, right—hey! I'm not shy!" America said this a little too loudly to be convincing, and he was doing a horrible job of fighting down his blush.

Romano rolled his eyes and jabbed America with an elbow before the idiot could say anything else stupid. "Just a second. You're not a human? You wouldn't be a demon, would you?" Romano seriously did not want to interact with any more of those.

"I'm not a demon! I'm a mermaid!" The nations both shot her an incredulous look, and dammit, she just laughed as though they told her a funny fucking joke. "I'm one of the rare kinds who can switch between having legs or a tail! Oh, you wouldn't believe how nice it is, to be able to lay on the land and sunbathe all day… you humans are so lucky to all be born on this side of the surface. Honestly, I just don't know how anyone in this town can get things done, when they can just soak up the sun instead..." Espra stretched lazily and finally sat back down on her chair.

Then there was silence, and she sprawled back out over the chair, and _hey!_ Was she going back to sleep!? "Oi, Lady. Priestess. Espra. We had some questions for you… if you please," Romano said.

She perked back up and faced the others again. "Haha, of course! Go ahead, I'm listening."

"...Right. Okay, so first, where is the Azure Crystal?"

"Hm, it should still be in its shrine… and that would be located on the bottom of the sea."

"You've got to be fuck—you've got to be kidding me." Shit, Romano didn't like cursing in front of nice ladies like her. "How are we supposed to get there?"

"Actually," America added, "can't you just turn into a mermaid and grab the Crystal for us?"

"Oh, usually it would be no problem! But the magic I use to transform and to open the water for human visitors, it's all linked to that Azure Crystal. Sorry boys, you're out of luck there." Espra shrugged a shoulder, looking as insincere as possible.

"Well… can we swim?" America asked.

"Hee hee, that'd be funny to watch. It's far too deep, you humans would run out of breath in no time." The nations both let out a frustrated sigh, and after a moment, Espra's eyes widened slightly, as though she came to a realization. "Oh, but the Golden Crystal is back! So, if you visit a magic craftsperson, they'll be able to help you. The Golden Crystal is the source for our shielding magic, so you should be able to use that underwater. You know what I mean?"

America nodded and Romano said, "Yes, we get it. And, while I'm thinking about the Golden Crystal… tell me, how is it that we reactivate these? We only got that first one by chance."

"Haha, that's lucky! The Crystals will reactivate when they're exposed to the emotion they govern. It has to be pretty strong, too."

"So, basically… it's like a jump, right?" America asked.

Espra gave him an odd look and laughed again. "Haha, I don't know what a jump is! But maybe you get the jist of it. The Golden Crystal is the source of happiness, so it could have only come back when at least one of you experienced a moment full of pure happiness. See what I mean?" The nations both nodded and then she continued, "The Azure Crystal is the source of our ability to think deeply, be curious. Pensa has always been known for its scholars, and if we get that Crystal back up, then our people here will once again be able to have thoughtful debates, and long nights of developing philosophies and inventions. Oh... if I could see that again, it would make me so happy!"

"So, once we get the Azure Crystal, we have to think really hard or something to restore it," Romano mused. Then he turned to America and added, "guess it's going to be up to me for that one."

America shrugged off the comment and turned back to the priestess. "So tell me, what flavor comes back when we do this one?"

"The flavor of saltiness—just like the sea! I'd love to have that again, too…" Espra replied, and she let out a blissful sigh.

"Oh man, that'd be awesome!" America exclaimed, and then he turned to Romano. "Well, I think I learned everything I needed. You good to go too?" Romano simply nodded, and with that, they both thanked Espra and gave her their goodbyes. As they left, they could see her lounge back over her chair again. Did she just enjoy the sun all day now, and nothing else? Romano supposed it was better to do that than to be holed up at home doing nothing, though.

As they returned to town, looking for some kind of magic craftsperson, Romano caught sight of the restaurant they were in earlier. Their chocolate was appropriately sweet, but it was still missing something: chocolate is supposed to be a little bitter, too. Romano frowned. If they had to be truly happy to bring sweetness back, then what would they have to do to restore the bitterness?

* * *

**Author's Notes:**

* * *

Pensa, a sunny town full of people who admire Alfred/America... sounds like my kind of place! Aw yeah.

I really like this chapter, and look, I don't even have to write up a lot of notes! For those curious, "Pensa" is based on the Spanish word "pensar", which means "to think". Felicity, Pensa... no questions on what these places are dedicated to, huh? Also, chapter title is the name of a jazz-classical piece by George Gershwin, which I am quite fond of~

Thanks again so much for reading, and I'll see you all around next time~!

EDIT: Oh my freaking fuck, it was only _after_ I posted this that I realized I didn't finish fixing the formatting! Go me. XD I think this site sends an alert for edited chapters too, and if so, I just want to say that the edit is really not a big deal. I just... I forgot to change the - dashes to — dashes. Oopsie. Everything else is exactly the same, though!


	6. Feeling a Little Salty

_Stupid fucking bastard America. _Romano hissed under his breath as the latest flower he plucked dimmed and withered immediately in his hand. That flower could just go fuck itself! And seriously, America could go fuck himself too.

It was the next morning, and Romano had ventured deep into the forest. He had been trying to pluck the bright golden flowers he saw yesterday for about an hour now, with little success. And _why_ was he dealing with this shit task? Why, because _of course_, they needed to gather a bunch of these damn flowers for the fucking craftsperson they met yesterday. And then he'd make them some kind of water shield, and they'd use that to get the stupid fucking Azure Crystal, and after that they could move on to the other Crystals, and then they could go back home and—_son of a bitch!_

Romano immediately withdrew his hands and nursed the finger he just pricked. Dammit, now it's bleeding… fucking fuck shit dammit. America made this look so easy! And all of the flowers he picked stayed alive, too.

Fucking bastard America couldn't be bothered to help out, though, apparently. _Oh no_, he had hero business to take care of! Yesterday he promised he would help, but this morning, all Romano got was a shitty fucking note from the bastard, who had already taken off. Apparently the asshole just _had_ to help fix someone's roof, and he also just _had_ to go and clean some trash off the beach, and he just _had_ to go and check on someone's dog, and he just _had_ to go and bless some young couple's wedding… busy day for the bastard.

So now Romano was stuck picking these shitty flowers by himself, which by the way, the fucking craftsperson fucking _said_ they needed to be handled a particular way, but… but _fuck_. Romano was so sick of America and his damn ego that he didn't bother finding the bastard before he left that morning. So what if Romano couldn't figure this shit out? Then they just wouldn't get the fucking Crystal! And so what if they never got that, and this world ended and they were trapped here and never got to go home? What did it all matter when stupid fucking America got to be the hero and heroically fix a roof, and… dammit! This one withered too!

Romano threw the dead flower aside, and then tucked his knees up and rested his head against them. _Dammit dammit dammit! _ He hated this! He wanted out!

And then…

Where would he go? With a huff, Romano uncoiled himself and sprawled out on the ground. Okay, okay. This was the part where he was supposed to just… _breathe._ In, then out. Count to ten. Romano slid his eyes shut, took a deep breath, and then, _one, two, three…_

On ten he let out his breath and finally opened his eyes again; the sight of treetops and filtered sunshine greeted him. The air was still pleasant and warm.

_Okay_. Romano sat up again and gauged his progress. He did harvest some of the flowers successfully, even though he didn't know how he did it—so at the very least, this wasn't hopeless. If he needed to, he could stay here all day and make sure he got as many as he needed. After all, it wasn't like he had anything else to do in this world…

With a renewed vigor, Romano started plucking the flowers again, trying to do it the right way. America here or not, Romano was going to take care of this shit, because fuck was he going to be damned if he ended up stuck here in this shit world!

* * *

The next morning found Romano on the beach, arms folded over his chest, scowl clear on his face. He was all by himself again.

Well—this wasn't exactly surprising news for him, but _still. _Didn't change the fact that America was a damn asshole.

So, by sundown the previous day, Romano had gathered a respectable amount of the damn flowers, and he had returned to town to have the shield made. Soon enough, he ran into America during the process, and the bastard promised he would retrieve the damn Crystal the next day.

_Don't worry_, he said, _I'm a good swimmer, I can get it back in no time!_

But, shit, here we are now, just after dawn, and America was well supposed to be here by now… surprise surprise.

Well, fuck it all. Romano was just going to take care of this shit all by himself again. He was a good swimmer too, dammit, he wouldn't have a problem getting the damn Crystal and getting them both out of here!

Well… Romano smirked as he withdrew the potion. _Maybe I could leave America behind._

He uncorked the small vial, letting out a yellow wisp of air. In a moment, the wisp circled around his head, disappeared, and… well, everything felt normal. Here goes nothing, he supposed. Romano ditched all his clothing, save the bare necessity, and strode into the water.

Once he was fully submerged, he was relieved to find that his face was actually dry. Even though there was no visible shield, he did have a bubble of dry air around his head. Hm… Romano paused his swimming a moment. This feeling was familiar, now that he thought of it.

...That's right. He had a dream about this a few nights ago! He got to swim with this sort of air bubble around his head, and then… and then he got to have his arms ripped off. Yeah, that wasn't such a pleasant memory.

Shaking off the pain and anxiety that his dream brought him, Romano fully focused on swimming towards the shrine.

* * *

After a long while of swimming, Romano finally popped his head through the surface of the water. This time, he was very many meters deep, arriving at an underwater cave; at least he could breathe normally down here. And that was good, because he didn't actually know how long the face shield would last.

Once he rested himself up, Romano stood and began walking deeper into the cave. Shitty fucking temple couldn't just… _be _here, where he was. As he was quickly realizing, the shrine was somewhere _around_ here, and Romano was going to have to search the pathways he came across before he could find it. Dammit! Fucking priestess didn't say anything about this!

Shortly after he began his search, Romano picked up on the faint noise of… giggling? When he followed it, he came upon another pool of water leading out, and… _whoa. _Sitting in that pool were some mermaids. Beautiful, gorgeous mermaids, grouped together and giggling at…

_Oh, look_. They're giggling at America—shirtless, no glasses, and knocked out. What the fuck is going on?

As Romano stepped forward, the mermaids noticed and turned to him.

"Oh, look, another human!" said one of them.

"What a delight! Hello there!"

"Hello," Romano pleasantly replied, his pretty lady reflexes working for him.

"Such odd luck! To see two humans after such a long time… I think this one's dead, though."

Romano somehow doubted that, though he frowned all the same. What he really wanted to find out, however, was what the hell was America doing down here? "Let me have a look."

The mermaids moved aside as Romano approached; he held America under the shoulders and dragged him onto the dry land. God, he was heavy… "Oi. America. Wake the fuck up." Romano patted America's cheek with the back of his hand. "Oi! Uh… there's burgers here, you fatass."

At that, America's eyes slowly opened; then he suddenly bolted upright, coughing up water.

"…You okay, bastard?"

Finally, America's coughing died down, and he took a deep breath. "Y-yeah… yeah, I'm just fine! Whew!" He grinned and flashed a thumbs-up. "I think I might've not been breathing for a few minutes there."

"...That's nice. Now tell me, what the fuck are you doing here?"

"I couldn't find you, dude! I wanted to tell you that I'd have to put off the Crystal stuff for a little longer, somebody wanted my help with something—" at that, Romano openly rolled his eyes, "—but all I saw was your clothes! I thought it looked kinda sketchy, so I just dove in to see what I could find."

Romano blinked at America, slowly, as though the blond was claiming that England's scones are better than burgers. "You just… dove in? And kept swimming? And… you didn't remember that you needed to breathe?"

America glanced away for a moment and rubbed the back of his neck. "Well… I was really dedicated! Anyway, the next thing I knew, I woke up here."

He then turned towards the mermaids and opened his mouth to continue, but before any sound came out, he was cut off by a collective gasp from them.

"Those eyes!" one of the mermaids called out, and Romano felt himself get crushed by a giant boulder made of dread and frustration.

"Just like the Azure Crystal!" another mermaid said, and _oh, yes, wonderful_, America was already sitting by the water and eating up all of the newfound eager attention.

"Hey there! Ha ha! I didn't expect to find more fans underwater!"

At that, Romano rolled his eyes, and called out, "America! We need to find the fucking temple, asshole!"

"Oh yeah!" America turned back to the group of mermaids before him. "Sorry ladies, but I've got some Hero Business to do!" _Ugh,_ Romano thought, _gag me and let me die already_.

"Aw, leaving already? We're so excited to meet you!"

"Yes, it's been so long! Won't you at least stay for a bite to eat?"

That last statement gave America pause; then he finally sat back down. "You're right, I am pretty hungry! Hey, Romano, why don't we stick around a little longer?"

"Yeah, fuck that. I'm going to find the damn temple, asshole." Romano would be damned if he was going to sit through more of this shit.

"All right! Your loss!" America called out to Romano's retreating back, as the mermaids all giggled.

* * *

Exploring the tunnels was a dull, time-consuming journey, and it just kept wearing away on Romano's mind. The Italian had long since lost track of time, and somehow, staring at all these damn rock walls was starting to make him feel faint and dizzy. Not to mention, he was getting pretty hungry, too… maybe he should've taken those mermaids up on their offer…

...Although… if Romano had anything to eat then, he would've thrown it all back up from the stupid attention America was getting. That's right. Stupid fucking America, probably lounging around with the pretty mermaids, having the time of his life and getting all the admiration he could possibly want… Romano really should just leave him behind.

And then, a different image formed in his mind. What if America wasn't sitting on his ass and having the time of his life at all? Somehow, memories of Romano's dream wiggled back into his consciousness, and then all Romano could think about was a circle of mermaids around America, ripping the guy limb from limb—

_Shit_. Romano stopped walking and took a deep breath. This was no time to be reliving some stupid nightmare! America was just fine, that asshole. Probably pigging out like he always does and, fuck all, laughing like a moron or something. Romano just needed to get a move on, he was starting to narrow down which path led to the temple!

But… what if America really was in trouble? Romano felt like his stomach just turned to stone. Mermaids were known to prey on humans, right?

Well—the legends on Earth said so! But it's not like they were even real there! Fucking mermaids could be completely different in this world. And America could take care of himself just fine either way, right?

Romano let out a sharp huff. No matter how hard he tried to suppress it, he couldn't get rid of that nagging worry… _Fine. _He could go back and check on the bastard. Well, more than anything else—maybe he could get some spare food from the mermaids! That's it; his hunger was finally getting the better of him, and he just needed to go back to where he knew there was food.

And all the same, America would definitely be okay, and there was no point in worrying!

As Romano returned to his destination, he could hear the faint giggling of some women—obviously the mermaids. And he could hear some female voices talking.

And… that was it.

_Shit._ Something—something didn't feel right. Blood fired through Romano's veins, and he darted towards the water now, taking that last turn around the corner—

—and there he was, America, completely passed out and with his legs submerged. In a half-circle around him were the mermaids, and shit, now Romano could hear them clearly—

"Do you think the toes will be any good?"

"Well, I always liked eating the toes!"

"I want the eyes! They're so pretty!"

"No way, I want them!"

"Well, I can have one, and you can have the other."

"Oh, I want one of the eyes too! I say I get it since I'm the oldest."

"I should get one because I saw them first!"

"Come on ladies, I just want to get started already! We need to rip off his arms, first of all."

"Oh, yes! Hee hee—you always start with the arms!"

"You think he'll sleep through that?"

"Yeah, I don't know. He needed more sleeping potion than a whale! Did we really use enough?"

"Don't the humans, like, die if we use too much though?"

"Oh, look… his friend's back!"

At that moment, all eyes turned to Romano, who was so stunned by the turn of events that he forgot to move. Immediately, his lucidity returned and he straightened up. "Um."

"Hey there, young man! Do you care to join us for lunch? Your friend here is just, um, napping after his! It was just that good."

"What—fuck no! You want to eat us!"

"... What? Why would you say that?"

"You were just talking about it!"

"Oh. Hm. I guess you heard, then!"

"Hee hee! Of course he heard us!"

"Well, not like it matters! At least we still have this one."

Just as the mermaids turned back to America, Romano held out his hands and shouted, "Wait!" He gulped as the others faced him again and continued, "You… you can't eat him!"

"Huh? Why not?"

"Just… because you can't! Come on!"

"Oh… now I remember. Humans are real sensitive about this whole getting eaten thing, aren't they? Well, look, we're not giving him back just because you said so, all right?"

Romano muttered a curse and felt his whole body tense. America seriously was going to get eaten! Something had to be done, _now_—Romano darted towards the other man and grabbed onto him, while trying to stay as far from the water himself as possible.

As he pulled on America, the mermaids laughed and started pulling back. Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. Even though he dug his heels in the ground, he was still getting pulled in!

"Ah—wait!" he yelped. The mermaids all stopped at once, and with the sudden loss of force from them, Romano gracelessly flopped onto his stomach. When he peered up again, he saw the mermaids staring at him blankly, waiting for him to go on…

...and then it occurred to him: they were pretty dumb. _Of course_. The Crystal he was supposed to find now—that one controlled people's abilities to stay focused and think. Let's see… he could just keep them all talking long enough and pull America away, right? If they couldn't focus, then he could keep distracting them!

Romano cleared his throat. "I was wondering. If you were, um… if you were to eat me…" an unpleasant shiver ran up his spine—that was really the last thing Romano wanted to think about now, "would you, um, also eat my eyes?"

Smiles broke out among the mermaids' faces, and one of them replied, "of course! I think eyes are always really yummy."

"...oh yeah? Well... do the colors matter?"

"Not really! But I have to say, those blue ones look so irresistible right now…"

"Is… is that so…" Romano had managed to drag America partway out of the water when the mermaids finally seemed to notice.

"Hey! What are you doing with him?"

"Ah, uh, shit—me? Um. Nothing!" _Good job, dumbass_. Yes, clearly, dragging America out counted as 'nothing'.

"That's our food! We want it!"

"Uh—wait!" As if the word were some magic spell, it held up the mermaids once again, and they all looked to him to go on. "Um. Well, I heard you all talking about toes, and, uh… you wouldn't want them getting all wrinkly in the water, right?"

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah! Have you ever had them dry? You couldn't have them any other way once you try it!"

"Hm…" one of the mermaids hummed, thinking back. "You know, I don't think I've ever had the toes dry before! Have you?" She turned to the others, questioningly.

With that, the mermaids all turned to face each other, trying to see if anyone got to try dry toes. Picking up on the obvious opportunity, Romano heaved and dragged America, and even kept going until they were far down one of the pathways, and he couldn't hear the mermaids anymore.

Finally satisfied, Romano dropped his companion to the floor, before sitting and leaning against a wall himself. Phew. Shit. Dammit. _What a troublemaker... _Romano glared down at America's peacefully resting face. So fucking unaware of the shit that just went down. Asshole.

When America was just asleep like this, not rambling about some stupid shit or engorging himself… well. He looked kind of… nice? Peaceful, definitely. Before he knew it, Romano had calmed down, staring at that blissful, handsome face… hearing only the sound of America's breaths… in… then out…

Romano couldn't help himself. He kept his feelings bottled up for so long… he gently placed his hands on either side of America's face and said quietly, "oi, bastard… you awake?"

Silence followed, and after a few moments, Romano decided it was safe to go on. He could feel his chest heat up, and he leaned a little further over the sleeping form…

...and then pinched and pulled on America's cheeks until his face was distorted. "How do you like that, fucking shit eater!? Not so hot now, are you, bastard!?" Romano let go and then pointed an accusing finger at America's face. "Do you have any idea what kind of bullshit I've been through these past few days? You could've helped, asshole! You and your stupid hero bullshit! _Oh, _everyone loves you! Everyone wants to fawn over America! Everyone thinks stupid, grease-brained, lazy _America_ is some hot shit! Look at him hamming it up while little, unimportant Romano gets all the actual work done! As usual. Tch. You're lucky I didn't leave you behind to get eaten! You owe me big time, you bastard."

_Hmph._ Romano roughly leaned back against the wall. That made him feel a bit better! Though America was still a bastard. He really was lucky Romano was so competent, and even worried about him back there! It'd be terrible if America had gotten ripped apart, limb by limb, from the mermaids…

Romano hummed in thought. What would happen then? As nations, they've all survived some pretty nasty wounds… grew back whatever they needed to, even. It would take a while, but America's arms would grow back, if they ever got cut off. Could he just be, like, some infinite food source, then? Just keep him around and keep cutting off his arms and legs every now and again…

"Ugh… Romano?"

The Italian jolted out of his thoughts and looked down to see a dazed America laying next to him. Shit, he wasn't expecting America to wake up so soon… he almost had a heart attack!

"Romano… are you… trying to can… cannin… eat me?" America's eyes rolled to face forward, and he let out a pathetic moan. Guess the drugs didn't entirely wear off yet.

"...The fuck makes you say that?"

"...just now. You were saying. I know I'd taste awesome and all, but…"

The blood in Romano's face went cold and he sputtered. "What—no! No, bastard. You imagined that." _Shit,_ Romano thought, _was I saying all that crap out loud?_

"Huh. Well. Okay, then." America scrunched his face up slightly and lifted an arm, sluggishly. Some of his awareness seemed to come back as he stared at his hand and started to flex his fingers. "So… where are we?"

"Still underwater. Those mermaids put you to sleep and were planning on eating you."

"Eating me? You don't mean…" America swung his hand about, uncoordinated, in some vague gesticulation. "You don't mean, like… some weird euphemism, do you?"

"... No. I mean actual, physically tearing you apart, and literally eating you."

"Huh. They seemed so nice." America's arm flopped back down at his side and Romano snorted. A few long minutes stretched between them, before America suddenly turned to face Romano again. "Hey. You must've gotten me out of there."

"There isn't anyone else around who would have, genius."

"Heh. Thanks for that. Guess you were the hero this time."

It took Romano a moment to realize he was getting some appreciation, and he looked down to America, shocked. Looking back up at him, America had a more subdued smile on his face than usual, and… fuck. _Look away, look away!_ That wasn't fair! He... America was playing dirty! Romano stared pointedly at his fingernails, cheeks feeling warm, and grumbled out some proper response—"yeah whatever, go fuck yourself," or something like that. He wasn't really paying attention.

A light shudder of a laugh left America's mouth as he finally sat up and started stretching. Romano was (_definitely not!) _appreciating the sight from the corner of his eye. Once the blond stood up and finished his stretching, he said, "Come on, let's get going! We've got a Crystal to grab, right?"

Romano huffed, remembering all the times he tried telling America the same thing. "Glad you're finally caught up, bastard." And with that, Romano stood up, and he led the pair down the path that he concluded should have the temple inside.

It took about fifteen minutes of walking before they made it to the shrine. The tunnel they went through opened into a large room, and in the middle of it was a tall building, conspicuously made of wood. The top of the temple branched into several narrow spires, and the entire outside of it had flowing wavy patterns carved in. The entrance was marked by a grand set of double doors—currently, locked double doors.

"Shit. Now what are we supposed to do?" Romano said, still uselessly trying the handle.

"Hey, look! It looks like there's some kind of puzzle on the door," America said, pointing at the strange curved patterns that ran along the front.

"Ugh. Fucking figures it'd be locked by a puzzle…" The Italian sighed, really not looking forward to doing more stupid bitch work for the damn Crystal.

Romano was about to step closer to the door to try and figure it out, when he felt America grab his shoulder. "Hey, stand back a second. Let me try," the blond offered, grinning. Romano simply shrugged and took a few steps back; it'd be nice to let America do some work for once.

Within moments, America pulled back a fist and then… _BAM!_ Romano jolted at the boom, just barely registering the storm of dust and falling bits of wood. America reached through the new hole and easily opened the door from the other side, a satisfied grin plastered on his face.

Well. Romano supposed that was one way of going about this, for sure.

The inside of the temple was already dimly lit, and the pair could see that it was similarly tall and ornate. Near the back was a carved stand that, sure enough, held a curvy crystal; it faintly shone a light blue. Upon closer inspection, Romano noted that it looked vaguely like an iris flower.

The two of them took a moment to admire it before Romano picked it up, saying, "Guess we should head back now."

"Why don't we jump it right now, though? Come on Romano, try thinking really hard!"

Romano frowned up at America before looking back down at the Crystal. The idiot did kind of have a point, why not bring the Crystal back now? Romano's forehead creased as he tried to concentrate… think… thinking about…

"…Dammit!" Romano cursed, "the fuck am I supposed to think about now, all of a sudden?!"

"Um… good question!"

"Here, asshole, you fucking try it!" Romano shoved the Crystal into America's hands.

"Yeah, sure! Oh, I know—I can think about different strategies or something!"

"Tch, that's nice. Come on, let's get out of here while we're at it."

"Sure thing!" America chirped, and Romano couldn't help the annoyance he felt at the blond's perkiness.

By the time the pair of them neared the pool that Romano first came in from, the Crystal remained as dim as when they found it.

"Nice job, America," Romano huffed.

"I thought it would work! I was thinking about all kinds of awesome football strategies!"

"... football strategies."

"Yeah!" America suddenly cut himself off, a thought occurring to him. "Although… I guess I was just thinking about football, and not actually strategizing!"

"You're a fucking dumbass."

"What can I say, football is awesome! Anyway, we can try again when we get back to the surface." America jammed the Crystal in his pants pocket, and the two of them finally arrived at their destination.

Which had several mermaids waiting for them there.

"He~llo there, boys~!" one of them called out sweetly.

"Hey there, ladies!" America replied, waving. Romano just felt his stomach churn all over again. "Thanks for waiting up! ...I think. Anyway, my buddy and I need to get going now! Could you move aside?"

"Of course!" They all swam to the edges, allowing the humans room to hop in. They seemed obliging enough at first, but as soon as America got near them, they seemed to perk up, realizing their opportunity.

"_America!_ Get the fuck away from there!" Romano shouted. Did this guy even have a fucking brain!?

"Huh? Why, what's up?" America turned to Romano curiously, while several pairs of hands reached for him and started pulling. Luckily, the blond didn't budge, and he continued to wait for Romano's answer.

"America, they tried to eat you! Remember?"

"...oh yeah! That's right!" He easily broke away from their grasp and walked back to Romano's side.

"Oh my fucking _fuck_ you're damn moron, did you know that?!"

"Hey, I was still half asleep when you mentioned the mermaids!" America replied, casually waving a hand, as if Romano wasn't physically worried for his life or anything. _Dammit, this bastard is going to make me ten years older by the time we're through here… _"Anyway, why don't we try a different way?" America turned back to the mermaids and called out, "Hey! Can we leave here another way?"

"Oh yeah! There's lots of ways to get out!" one of them replied.

"... And you aren't going to block it off or anything because you want to eat us, right?"

"Oh no, we'll definitely follow you around! We're too excited to get to eat humans again, you know!"

There was dead silence, and after a moment, the same mermaid who just spoke smacked her forehead. "Wait, dammit! I should've lied about that! Shoot! Uh… hey, you know, forget about what I said, human! You're all free to go!" The nearby mermaids all nodded in assent.

Romano and America shared an incredulous look, before the latter turned back to answer. "Uh, yeah, we don't believe you."

"... Dammit."

"Guess we gotta figure something else out, huh, Romano?"

"And how the fuck are we supposed to do that?" Romano said, already envisioning all the ways they could get eaten. "Shit, I bet they can smell us underwater! Like sharks or some shit…"

Just as the panic was really starting to take over Romano's mind, he got distracted by America's obnoxious laughter. "Hey man, don't worry! We'll figure something out! Come on, let's get out of here first."

America set an arm around Romano's shoulders and gently led them back into the cave network, away from where any mermaids could hear. He shot the brunette a reassuring smile, and at that, Romano took a deep breath and concentrated on keeping himself together.

That's right. He could just leave this bastard to figure things out for a change. It was reassuring to think that America could get back to doing some of the work again.

And no, Romano's relief had nothing to do with the fact that the bastard's eyes really were as nice as everyone kept saying they were.

* * *

**Author's Notes:**

* * *

For the record, when they were talking about football, they were each thinking about two different sports.

Oh goodness, I had such a hard time writing this chapter! There isn't even, like… a really good reason why it took so long. My brain was just sucking a lot lately. D:

So on that note, I'm sorry for taking so long—and thanks to everybody who stuck around for like three months! Fuck, man, three months already…

But hey, now I'm just in time for America's birthday! Fuck yeeeeah! No matter where you are and what you're doing today, I hope everyone has a happy 4th! As for me, I can't wait to pig out on grilled burgers and hot dogs and corn and potato salad and maybe I'll have some s'mores… ohmygod. Okay, okay, I'm going to stop now before I really ramble!

Have a great Fourth and an awesome weekend! Best wishes until next time, folks!


	7. He Can't Solve Everything

"All right, so here's what we're looking at," America said, as he stared at the diagrams he just drew in the ground. "What do you think, Romano?"

"I think…" another loud rumble interrupted the Italian mid-sentence. "I think that I'm too fucking hungry for this." Shit, he hadn't eaten since this morning, had he?

"If we put our heads together, we can figure something out faster!"

Romano groaned and relaxed himself back into the wall. "I'm sure you can handle it on your own, America. Not all of us have the energy of the fucking sun."

"Oh… do you like taking siestas? Yeah, I remember that Italy's really big on those too!"

Romano grit his teeth at the mention of his brother's name—as though he were the only Italy!—and he shut his eyes. Dammit, he wasn't going to say anything in response, and America was just going to have to figure things out on his own this time!

It took a moment before Romano heard the telltale sound of America shifting about, back to trying to make a plan. He could hear him mumbling out various ways to escape, how those ways could fail, and every now and again the blond asked a question… thankfully they seemed rhetorical.

In a way, hearing America's gentle and consistent murmurs was quite calming… eventually, Romano felt himself drifting off… and maybe a siesta wouldn't be so bad right about now, anyway…

The next thing Romano knew, he had a crick in his neck and rocks digging into his back. He eased himself forward, rubbing at his neck and slowly opening his eyes. How long had he been out for? And… where the hell was America? Romano huffed at the thought—he didn't want to chase him around anymore!

As Romano fully woke himself up and stretched and warmed up his muscles, he had a look at America's notes and drawings. The guy was more thorough than Romano had thought… but. In the end, it looked hopeless. Even if there weren't mermaids around, they were still too far deep to reach the surface before they ran out of air… dammit.

The soft padding of footsteps tore Romano away from his observations, and he saw America return. Thank fucking god. The taller man sat back down on the ground, and Romano noticed a bright blue glow coming from his pants pocket.

"Son of a bitch… you got it back?" Romano asked, waving vaguely to the light.

"Hey… yeah, I did." America rubbed a hand down his face, and for once, Romano felt a little bad for him. "I tried to see if I could talk things out with them after the Crystal came back, but I'm pretty sure they were just lying most of the time."

Romano scoffed at that, frustrated. "Won't they be in big trouble if we don't finish our job here?"

"That's what I tried telling them!" A small laugh escaped America's lips. "But they seem pretty convinced that they can think of another solution to that problem later."

The frown on Romano's face deepened. He had nothing to reply with, so he sat back, hugged his bent legs against his chest, and let the silence go on between them.

Damn did America look a bit worn out. And despite his nap, Romano wasn't feeling much better, either…

Fuck, this was such a miserable situation. Here he was, alone with an attractive person, both of them less clothed than usual… and it was for all the wrong reasons. Nothing was going to happen as it usually would in these sorts of circumstances. Fucking dammit. At least Romano wouldn't feel as bad right now if he weren't practically naked...

Romano peeked over his knees and saw America still relaxing. The blond let out a small sigh and rubbed at the back of his neck, and Romano took the opportunity to appreciate the bobbing Adam's apple and strong muscles that made up the neck and connected to the shoulders, so clearly strong and sturdy...

And then he buried his face again. Fuck these stupid feelings… America was definitely not the first attractive person Romano had ever seen, not by a long shot. Why did he have it so bad for this asshole, anyway?

"Hey, Romano, you all right there?" America asked, and the Italian looked back up to him. "I know, it looks pretty bad now. And you even said you're hungry, so that's gotta be a hundred times worse! But you're with the hero now, so trust me—everything will be okay! Okay?" America beamed then and held a thumbs-up.

Romano felt his face blaze, and he immediately buried it back in his knees. Yeah, that's right. Okay, he could remember why he probably had those stupid feelings for America now. He thought back to the time when he was stuck in bed with a broken leg, after getting kicked down by a fucking horse. And then America would visit every day, and make sure he was as comfortable as possible, and he brought along gossip and books and things to keep Romano entertained while he was stuck there…

And he always had that big smile on his face, and it was like no matter what was happening in the world, America would find some reason to be happy and thrilled about life…

It felt as though Romano's heart twisted into a knot. Romano pressed his forehead deeper into his legs and mumbled, "Stupid bastard." Dammit, he needed to do something about his feelings. Put an end to this fucking misery, _somehow._ "How are you so sure about this? It's fucking impossible." _How could he still smile like that? How could he even sound halfway convincing when he said that?_

"Come on, like I said! Just trust me! Even when it looks bad, I can always figure something out!"

Romano let out a loud grumble from the back of his throat as his only response. Damn, he could fucking _hear_ that cheesy stupid smile in America's voice… That fucking smile that still held so much sway on his mind, somehow...

And then, a distinctly female voice rang out from down the hall, "There you are! I was wondering what happened to the two of you!" Both nations whipped their faces around to turn to the newcomer; it was the priestess, Espra.

"Hey there! I wasn't expecting to see you down here!" America greeted amicably, as he stood up and walked towards her. Romano followed behind, more grumpy-looking than his companion.

"And I wasn't expecting to find you here!" the priestess said, grinning. "Honestly, I figured you two would've been eaten by now!" Romano felt his stomach lurch, and he and America exchanged a quick, disgusted look with each other. "I could tell when the Azure Crystal was restored, and _oh _it was so exciting! I did some reading, and I thought about some things—and then I thought about you two! Seeing as how you were the ones who enabled me to think again. Anyway, I was wondering if you'd gotten back yet, and then I remembered the other mermaids down here, and I was thinking how lucky it was that they didn't eat you on the way in, and probably you two tried to leave and then that was when they ate you, but I decided to check just in case, and… here we are!"

Romano and America could only reply by blinking owlishly at her. She sure got talkative now…

"Anyway, I can get you two out of here, safely. How does that sound?"

Needless to say, the two of them were more than eager to take her up on her offer.

* * *

When the three of them reached water, Romano noticed that it looked brilliant—clear and bright blue. Still missing some of the other more subtle hues that made up the sea, but still, it looked much better now.

It took some convincing, but Espra finally got the mermaids to back off, and then she parted the water—_literally parted the water on either side of them_—and opened up a dry path along the sea floor. The priestess hummed some little tune as she led the nations along, just as though this were nothing special… but Romano could barely take notice of anything else. Damn. He couldn't believe that this was happening…

On either side of him were tall walls of water, reaching toward the appropriately blue sky, and the fish and waves cast ever-changing shadows within the sea, but the walls still stayed obediently flat. He could hear the creatures from within swishing and bubbling about, and on the top of the walls was sea foam that waved along with the water's movements… Romano stuck an arm out as he walked along, passing his fingers through the water. It felt cool and smooth and he could feel the sea's gentle forces working against him, but still, the shape of the walls never became deformed.

Even when they all returned to Espra's house and he sat at her table, waiting, he couldn't get the image out of his mind. The way the sun reflected off the water, giving the appearance of millions of little stars in the sea, shimmering on and off..

It was the gentle thud of Espra setting down some mugs and a plate that finally brought Romano back to the present time. He gratefully took one of the mugs—full of the same chocolate drink he had before—as well as a handful of the salted nuts from the dish (which were apparently a Pensa specialty). As he did so, Espra took her seat at the table as well, and gently unfolded the map before them.

"Yes, this is where we are," she said, pointing out their location. She then dragged her finger along to another place and continued, "So this will be the next closest one—the Indigo Crystal. This one controls the domain of sadness, bitter flavors, and cold weather."

Romano snuck a glance at America; currently the blond was stuffing his face with the chocolate and nuts. It was nice to taste salt again, at least. "It looks like that one is on a mountain, though," Romano replied, looking back to the priestess. "Don't tell me we're going to have to walk there again."

"You wouldn't want to walk there? Well… I suppose it is a far way to walk. And if we picked something faster, that would just be better for everyone involved…" Espra leaned back in her seat and hummed in thought for a moment. "Oh! I think I know!" She shot forward again, huge grin on her face and her finger pointed at the ceiling. "Maybe we could use horses again! You know, Pensa is the biggest trader of books, we send all kinds of them through here! And of course, we make a ton of our own! Anyway, we had to stop because our horses couldn't do it anymore, but maybe now we can start the trade up again… oh, that would be so exciting! I can't tell you how much I loved reading everything we got in!" She took a moment to daydream about it, completely unaware of the disinterest on the others' faces; she really liked to ramble, didn't she? "So yes, anyway, we could set up a wagon and send a load of books over to Melancholia—that's where the Indigo shrine is—and let you two hitch a ride along the way! You'd even have some good reading during the trip! What do you say?"

The nations held their breaths for a moment, not expecting her to stop so suddenly. America was the first to speak, though, saying, "Hey, that sounds great! It'd be way faster and easier to do that! What do you say, Romano?"

Romano leaned back and gathered his thoughts a moment before responding. "Well, horses are the best we've got anyway, right? Would we be able to leave soon?"

"I think we could arrange that!" Espra answered. "Who wouldn't be excited to start up our book trade again? If the horses will cooperate, we'll have you on your way in a few days, tops!"

* * *

They were in a room together now—Romano and America—big and wide and empty of all people besides them. They sat facing each other, and in between them was a chess table, all set up for a new game.

"So," America drawled, and he looked so smug and even a bit.. _hungry_. "Your go. Hit me with your best shot."

Romano gulped, and made his first move. Then America. Then Romano again, and another round passed, and then—"Checkmate!" America grinned as he pointed out his quick victory. "And you remember what was going to happen to the loser, I bet." America looked back up with a heated and intense look in his eyes, and Romano felt some strange mix of dread and exhilaration as the other nation walked around the table towards him.

"Right here, though?" Romano asked.

"Well, why not? Come on!" America yanked Romano up, and within moments, their clothes were all off and _holy shit_ Romano was experiencing the best sex he had ever known, bent over the small table and getting pressed into it, over and over again...

There was that overwhelming, explosive rush he felt on the inside, and Romano relaxed his neck.

And when he looked up again, there was a pair of dark red eyes looking straight back into his own.

"Play time is over now, little buggy. We get what we want," Lindy said, following that up with a little giggle.

Romano jolted away from the table and reached for America, and somehow they were fully clothed again, and despite Romano's cries he saw America get swept away before him—carried off by some strange dark crimson force. Romano tried to move, but suddenly his legs felt limp and useless and he couldn't go forward. He watched as America struggled against those vague shadows holding him down, and then he caught a glimpse of Lindy's wide smile.

"Good bye," she said simply, and with a flick of her wrist, the shadows became some giant maw, snapped shut completely over America. There was a dead silence, and then the shadows came apart, slowly rolling in among them like a thick fog.

When the shadows finally cleared up, it was just Romano and America again, and _oh god _America was laying now in a pool of his own blood. Romano was able to move again, and he ran up to the still body, and when he got there all that America could do was roll along with Romano's shoving… no pulse or breath, just more and more blood, drowning everything now…

Cold beads of sweat stuck to his face as he jolted upwards, and, and… Romano was somewhere else now. Time slowed, the air was thin and calm, and… this was real life.

Romano took a deep breath and relaxed. He was sitting in the covered wagon now, which was currently stopped for some reason, among many stacks of books, and… America wasn't there.

A familiar and boisterous laugh from outside set Romano's nerves at ease, and he finally leaned back against some books.

Okay.

This was the third sharply emotional dream he's had, that involves having sex with America. And otherwise doesn't make much sense. Romano already had this happen two times, each one before they set off for another Crystal… as much as he wanted it to be a coincidence…

He remembered that America mentioned bringing back happiness the first time, which was exactly what they did. And then the second time had the mermaids who lied and preyed on humans, and Romano did venture underwater for that..

Shit. This one looked awful, though. Lindy coming back, and this time, she would decimate America…

Romano felt his stomach churn, and all he wanted then was to… hold? No, just see, that's right… just see that the bastard was okay, and get some fresh air…

America was standing near the wagon when Romano emerged, cooing at a horse and giving it some food. He was by himself up until then, and Romano caught a glimpse of such a serene smile—

"Hey dude!" America said, and suddenly the usual grin was back and he was waving at the other. "You sleep well?"

"... Yes," Romano answered, and the other nation seemed satisfied with that.

For a while they didn't speak, and Romano walked up to America, intently petting the calm horse by them. He wanted so badly to tell the blond about what happened, but… but how? His mind was too jumbled to put the words together... and probably, America would laugh at him and not believe him, anyway…

Romano glanced back at the other nation, and an image of that same face beaten and bloody flashed across his mind. He _had_ to tell America about this, because there was so much at stake here.

"Hey… America," Romano started, and then he had the blond's full attention. What would be the most believable way to explain this…? "...Look, I've been thinking… this stuff we're dealing with is pretty dangerous. I mean, those mermaids almost had us last time!"

"Well, yeah."

"So… what if something really _bad_ happened? Maybe, someone's going to attack you, and they'll leave you all limp and bloody and you can't move!"

America answered that with a ridiculously obnoxious laugh. "What's this, all of a sudden? Nobody's going to beat me!"

"But, what if they do!?"

"I dunno, guess I'd figure it out then! I've had my fair share of rough times, you know?"

"Yeah, but this isn't—I mean, what if—maybe it's much worse!"

"Pff, now you're worrying too much. I'm the hero! I always pull through!"

Some wild emotion ran up to Romano's head and flushed his cheeks, and just, _dammit_, would America please drop this shit for just one second?! "Come on America, you can't just keep saying that!"

"Hey, what's gotten into you? It's going to be all right, so—"

"No the fuck it isn't! Dammit America, shit won't always go your way! And then… and then what!?"

For a moment, America stared back, wide-eyed. And then he broke out into a grin again, and laughed again. "But it always goes my way! There's nothing to worry about as long as the hero is around!" He held a thumbs-up, and then walked back towards the wagon they were riding.

Fucking… _asshole_.

Fuck.

* * *

**Author's Notes:**

* * *

Hello again, everyone! I can't think of much to add here, this time. XD Anyway, another long time coming here, this time thanks to summer plans and then getting a new job with a new schedule to get used to… but hey! Everything's calming back down now, and I've got some regular time to get writing done again (provided I don't get any more writer's block). So… awesome! Also, the new job's awesome too, I just gotta put that one out there!

Anydangway, thanks again to everyone who's read this far, and I hope you all continue to enjoy what I've got planned ahead! Until next time~!


	8. Indi-Go for the Top!

Shit, was that—no, wait, that's normal, it's just shadows. Romano sighed in relief.

"Dude—"

"Gah!"

"Dude, calm down! You've been looking completely wound up all morning," America said, giving Romano an odd look. "Why don't you head back to the inn and take it easy?"

"Fuck no! I said I'm coming along, so I'm coming along!" Romano replied, and then he went right back to his anxious looking around.

Today was their first morning in Melancholia, and Romano was keeping on high alert. He hadn't seen any signs of demons yet, but—shit!

... Oh, wait. That wasn't them, either.

Anyway, the point was, he was expecting them soon, and if America wasn't going to take him seriously and be more careful, then dammit, Romano was going to stick by the bastard's side!

And don't anyone get any funny ideas here, either! Romano just didn't want America to get incapacitated somehow, because then they'd just have to take way the fuck longer to get back home.

The pair of them were heading to the priestess's house now, looking for information on the Indigo Crystal. As they moved along, Romano could only feel his nerves continue to wind up, and by the time they reached the house—a normal little wooden structure, just part of the rest of the neighborhood—he felt exhausted already.

America knocked on the door, and after a moment, it opened and revealed a short and slight woman, with long and dark hair that fell over her eyes.

"May I help you?" she asked.

"Yes!" America answered. "We were looking for the Indigo Crystal, so we could revive it—because we're the heroes!"

"... Oh. Is that so..." Her eyebrows drew together and then she stepped aside, revealing that there were two people further on inside.

Klein and Lindy.

_Shit_. They looked over to the nations then, and Lindy's face turned as sour as Romano felt.

"_You!_ What are you doing here!?" Lindy exclaimed, walking briskly up to the doorway.

"We're here to restore the Indigo Crystal!" Romano shouted back, instinctively edging away. "What are you doing here!?"

"I—why—w-well, that's why me and Klein are here!"

"Like hell you are!"

At that, the demons and the priestess gave Romano odd looks. Just when the Italian thought he was about to choke on the awkwardness, Lindy spoke up, saying, "What does that even… _mean?_"

… _Right_. Idioms. Not the same here.

"Regardless of that," the priestess cut in, "all of you claimed to be the Crystals' heroes, but there still seems to be some kind of conflict…"

"Of course there is!" Romano said, regaining some of his earlier steam. "Those two aren't heroes at all—they're demons who are here to kill everyone!"

"Oh, really? Is that so?" The priestess faced Lindy then.

"Um. I. Um..." Lindy turned to Klein, who made some gestures at her. Once he finished, Lindy smirked and turned back to the others. "Of course that's not true! Wow, that's so, um... Wow! What a bad joke!" Lindy barked out some casual laughter. "Actually... How do we know that you two losers aren't the demons around here!?"

"Yeah, who knows with Romano?" America said, running a hand through his hair. "I think it's pretty obvious that I'm a hero, though!"

The priestess looked America up and down, forehead furrowed. "I dunno," she finally said, "You don't obviously seem to be one or the other, honestly. How am I supposed to tell who's telling the truth?" She rubbed her chin and then stared off into space, thinking. Some long moments later, her eyes lit up, and she said, "I think I have an idea. I'm able to think this through because the Azure Crystal is back, and that only happened thanks to the real heroes being able to think deeply. So, I must test your ability to think."

She turned to the others with a critical eye. "And actually, who's to say you four are the only candidates? What if there's somebody else nearby trying to find my house? I should… Yes, that's it. I'll set up a chess tournament, one week from now! The winner would be the most likely person to be the hero, then."

Romano blanched. "... What?"

"Was I unclear somewhere? There's no way for me to ever be completely sure, but at least this way gives me the best chances. As I was explaining earlier to the other two, I've hidden away the Indigo Crystal from danger… so, I'll give it away to the winner next week. It seems the most fair." Then, the priestess nodded and showed a small smile. "Besides, chess is my favorite game."

"Well, I'm fine with that," America said, tucking his hands into his pockets.

"As are we!" Lindy added with a huff.

Romano looked among the others, mouth hanging open from disbelief.

_Fucking hell, this world is stupid._

* * *

"Bastard, do you even know how to play chess?" Romano grumbled. He and America sat across from each other at an outdoor table, chess board between them; Romano was currently setting up the pieces while America finished off his lunch.

"Mmm mph mmmph!" America... _said_.

To which Romano replied with a glare.

After taking a comically huge gulp of his food, America said, "Sure I do! I've played against Russia tons of times! How 'bout you? You any good at it?"

"What—of course I am!" Not that he played the game very much at all. Ever.

While Romano finished the setup, America pushed his plate aside, and finally took a look down at the board. "Pff—" the blond snorted. "Dude, you've got the board sideways."

"Fucking—shut the fuck up!" Romano screeched, feeling his face go hot.

A few minutes later, America _correctly _finished the setup, and he waved a hand for the Italian to start. "You first," he said.

"I knew that! I remembered all the rules, and I know that white goes first, so obviously—yeah! Shut up, bastard!" Romano, who was consciously ignoring the odd look his companion sent him, plucked up a pawn and moved it forward. America twitched as though to make his move, but Romano held up a finger. "Wait, wait! I don't know if I want to do that."

Romano took the pawn back, then reached for another. Two forward, or one forward? Oh, but if he moved that one, then it leaves his queen open… He moved to grab a different pawn, but, if he did _that_ one, then America could get his king… And hey, what about the knights? He could open with those! But then, which one… and if he was too bold with those knights, then he could lose them, and Romano heard somewhere that knights are really good…

Romano glanced up and saw America completely zoned out, staring into space. At the sudden movement, America's eyes snapped back into focus, and he looked back to Romano. "You move yet?"

"No! I'm still thinking, bastard… this is a strategy game, you're supposed to think your moves through!"

America frowned, and looked like he was about to argue back; but then he just turned back away. "Just hurry up, man."

Stupid pushy bastard! Romano huffed and went back to moving pieces around, trying to figure out his first move. Well, they'd see who was the better strategist when America just rushed things and ended up losing!

After some long minutes of thinking (Romano lost track of time), the Italian finally played, feeling at least halfway confident about it. "Oi, bastard," he said. "You can go now."

It took America a moment to come back to reality. "_Finally_." He didn't even so much as look at the board before he moved a piece forward. Bastard.

Romano hummed in thought. He could move the pawn from last turn again, and get it farther forward… He did so, and just as America reached over for his play, Romano yelped and pulled back. "Shit, I don't want to do that!" He just noticed—his pawn could get taken by a bishop if it stayed there!

Instead, Romano moved a knight up. America raised a brow and asked, "Can I go now?"

"Um… wait, no."

Romano moved another piece tentatively, and then another, before he heard America groan. He looked up to see the blond frowning and rubbing a hand down his face. "Dude," America finally said, "New rule: once you move a piece, then that's officially your move."

"The fuck!?"

"You're fucking _slow!_"

"Bastard! _Fine!_ Have it your way!" Romano could feel himself fill with anger—as well as the determination to show up the burger bastard—and so he shot all of his focus down on the board.

When it was his turn, Romano mentally ran through the meanings of every possible move, and tried to figure out America's strategy. On the other hand, America breezed through his moves, and sometimes it looked like he wasn't even paying attention.

… So when America won his checkmate, Romano was very honestly confused.

And he made that much clear. "What the fuck, America?! How the fucking fuck did you win?"

"Dude, you suck at this game. Horribly. Like… so hard, that you suck the dick _and _the balls. All in one go."

Romano felt his face go so _red_, and so _hot_, and he could swear he was able then to toast marshmallows with his ears—"The—The fuck!? You weren't even looking half the time!"

America sighed and sat back. "Look, I'm also pretty good, too. I've played a lot of games."

Romano stared back down at the board, flustered. Shit, he got _creamed_. This was just like…

… Just like that dream from two weeks ago.

Romano felt his heart accelerate instantly, and he glanced around for the demons.

No, no demons around now. _Calm down._

He began toying with one of the pieces and mulled over the dream, before looking back to America. "Look, next week… Well, those two demons are also going to the tournament next week. I… think they're planning something awful."

America raised an eyebrow at that. "Dude, where did this come from, all of a sudden?"

"Never mind that! I, I just don't want something really, really… _bad_… to happen because of them. Maybe we should skip the tournament? Get the Crystal another way that doesn't involve seeing them again?"

"What, you got an idea on how to do that?"

Romano could feel himself deflate. "Well, no."

"Then, what's up? We're just playing chess, that's got to be the least dangerous way to fight them!"

"I know... just..." Romano sighed, and when he looked up to America's face, he could see the blond frowning.

"Do you think I can't win, or something?"

"No! No, it's not that, just…" America's frown appeared to deepen. "Look, who's to say they'll play fair? Or even play chess at all? What if they just come in, and… well, and—"

"And start a massacre?"

"Yeah! … Something like that."

"Well… we need the Crystals, and they're after the same thing… I'd bet it's only a matter of time before they try something extreme. But, it's not like we have a clue what they're capable of. What could we do about them now?"

"We could… um…" Romano could only think that he and America could attack preemptively, but, _shit_… he really didn't want to do that. Too dangerous, and too unnecessarily violent. "... I don't know."

"Come on, dude, I'm sure this isn't the first time you've had to deal with nasty shit. It's not the first time for me, either. If shit hits the fan, we can figure something out when we actually get there, all right? At the very least, I _promise _that I can get us out of any problems." America puffed out his chest and smiled widely. "I'm the hero! I can make it through anything!"

"America, I'm trying to be serious here! I'm worried about how things are going to end up!"

"I'm serious too!" The blond hopped out of his seat and waved off Romano. "I think you're just going crazy with worry, because everything's going to be fine, all right? I'll win the tournament and then we'll be on our way, and we can deal with unexpected things as they come. Why don't you take it easy, in the meantime? Rest up for the week, you can take a break!" The last statement was punctuated with a perky grin, and with that, America turned and walked off somewhere.

Romano slumped over the table and sighed. What the hell was wrong with that bastard? Why wouldn't he listen? It was so bad, he must have been doing this on purpose—at least a little bit.

America, what was going on in that head of yours?

* * *

**Author's Notes:**

* * *

Hello again everyone! I'm thinking we'll see the answer to that question at the end rather soon. That's one part of the story I've had in mind for most of the run so far, so I can't wait to write it! And then, after that… if fanfic's formatting allowed weird symbols and stuff, I would totally have put down one of those stupidly excited-looking smileys here.

Until next time, all you awesome folks! (...Insert the sunglasses smiley here.)


	9. Checkmate

_Content warning in this chapter for light violence._

* * *

Romano felt his blood turn cold as he looked around at the turnout for the tournament. There were more people here than he was expecting... did he and America even stand a chance at winning? Shit, no one else even _looked_ qualified to restore the Crystal. He was going to be pissed if some random shithead won and kept the damn Crystal to themselves!

With a groan, Romano approached the table where he'd be playing his first match—because _yes_, dammit, he was going to give this a try! If for no other reason than to pull the odds of getting the Crystal to his favor.

And who should be waiting for him at the board, but America. _Fan-fucking-tastic_.

"Hey dude! I didn't think you'd actually be playing," America said, smiling.

Romano took his seat. "Well, here I am, bastard. I'm going to kick your ass!" Dammit, Romano didn't want to go against America on the first round! That just defeated the whole point of him competing in the first place!

"Oh yeah? Did you get any practice in since last week?"

"I... Um, wouldn't you like to know, asshat!" And to be honest, Romano _tried_, he really did! But, fucking hell, chess was _boring_. Especially because he had been playing against other people of this world instead of America—so, basically, he was hanging out with the most boring, emotionally shallow people possible.

Romano glared down at the board. Looked like he was first. He glanced over the pieces, and started to try planning out some kind of strategy. Even if he wasn't going to win, he'd at least try not to look like a complete fucking loser here!

When he finally made his decision, he looked up to see… America staring at his phone.

"Hey, asshole. The fuck are you doing?"

"Huh? …Oh, I was just waiting for you to finish. You done yet?"

"Don't tell me your phone still works at this point."

"Ah, no, it doesn't! I was just pretending that I was actually doing something interesting while I waited."

Romano answered that with a frown.

"What!? Am I supposed to just stick my thumbs up my ass while I'm waiting?"

"... Bastard. Just _go_, dammit." Fucking _hell,_ Romano usually got bored with chess, but when he was against America—_dammit! _He just got overwhelmingly _pissed_ when he went against the stupid burger bastard!

As before, America completed his turn quickly. After another great length of time, probably enough for America to finish pretend-watching a cat video or two, Romano made his next move and smirked. Yes, this time he'd lead with the stronger pieces that stood in the back, so this would go way—

—"Checkmate!" America called. Romano did a double take and raked the board with his eyes.

"What the... What the fuck, America!? How... How did you—that was round two!" Was it really possible to end the game in two turns!?

"Hey, what can I say? You were particularly shitty today!" America smirked, and Romano couldn't help the low growl that escaped his throat.

_Dammit_, after all this shit, America had damn well better win the whole fucking tournament!

"Hey, everyone sucks the first few times!" America said, seeming to pick up on Romano's mood. "You'll get better if you practice."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever," Romano replied with a huff. Stupid… asshole. "Anyway, you better win the rest of them!"

"That's the plan, man!"

With that, they parted ways. Presumably, America was going to get ready for his next match, and Romano, in the meantime, searched through the crowds. Whether they'd be joining the tournament or crashing it, the demons were bound to be here, right?

Soon enough, he could hear Lindy's voice, and it wasn't long before he spotted them—sticking out as the only fully-colored people around.

Sadly, they spotted him, too. "Well, look at what we've got here! Lose already?" Lindy asked, sneering.

"_No!_ No I didn't!" ...Wait. "Well… maybe I did! What's it to you?"

"Hee hee, I figured. Loser." Standing behind his sister with his arms crossed, Klein nodded in agreement. "Klein here is going to win the whole thing, you know! Then we'll be considered the true heroes and they'll give us the Crystal."

"Hey, America's still in the running! And… he's pretty good! I think." Not like Romano even knew how to judge a person's chess skills. "Well, he's played against Russia a lot!"

Lindy's sneer morphed into a somewhat confused expression. "...Whatever you say. Loser!"

Klein gave his sister a little tap on the shoulder, made some gestures, and then moved on somewhere else—presumably he was going to his next match. Lindy threw an insult at Romano before going after Klein, and then… Romano followed after Lindy. More than anything else, he did not want to keep his eyes off of them.

"Ugh," Lindy said, as she saw Romano stand next to her. "What are you doing here?"

"I'm… just here, okay!? I hope your brother loses! In like, two turns!"

"Ha! Two turns?! Is it even possible for _anyone_ to lose that fast?"

Romano could almost physically feel the jab, and without meaning to, some strangled grunt of a noise escaped his throat. He pointedly turned away, now facing Klein's current match, which had just started.

...Fucking hell, Romano had no clue how to tell who was winning. He took another peek at Lindy through the corner of his eye… currently she was just acting like a normal spectator. Hm. Was this really where they would attack? It was the only situation where Romano and America and chess would all be involved somehow, at least as far as he could tell. Were the demons waiting to see America before they attacked him? Or maybe… the attack would be a plan B in case they lost?

..._Shit_. Romano's blood turned cold and he could feel anxiety coming on. What could he do about all this? Well, first, he couldn't start any fights, that was for sure. The last thing he needed to do was get them to immediately _want_ to do… whatever that was in his dream.

He supposed he couldn't just ask about it, either. How would that even go? 'Hey Lindy are you guys planning on summoning some shadow monster from hell to kill America?' 'Oh why yes, as a matter of fact, we are! Hey, since you brought it up, why don't I go ahead and show you now?'

Yeah… no. Lindy seemed like the type to become violent at the drop of a hat.

Anyway, it did seem like Lindy was the only person who controlled the shadows in his dream. Maybe he could lead her away from here?

"Hey, Lindy," he said, and she turned to him. "I, uh, wanted to ask you something."

"Is that so? What?"

…Well, shit. Um. _Shit_. "I… I, um, I'd have to show you. It's outside!"

"Pff. No thanks, then. I'm going to be here for my brother until the very end! Go, Klein!"

"But, it's… really important!"

"And you think I believe you?" With a snort, Lindy turned back to the game. Even though Romano tried calling out to her again, she just ignored him.

So… well, shit. That was shitty.

Romano continued to stay near the demons, game after game. He tried a few more times to distract Lindy, but she was doing a great job of ignoring him. Dammit.

Finally, it was time for the final match—Klein versus America. Well… at least America made it to the finals.

Romano felt tense just watching the game. He had no idea what was actually going on with it, but every time he heard a piece get moved, it sounded like another little thud that was tolling in certain doom.

His nerves made the game feel like it took hours, but once it was over—America was the winner!—it felt like the whole thing was done in the blink of an eye.

America received some applause as he was declared the champion, and finally the priestess appeared and handed over the Crystal.

Nearby, Romano could hear Lindy growl, and _fuck _he just knew what was coming next. "Well!" she called out, and all the attention was on her. "Congratulations on winning, you… you awful person. But, we're getting that Crystal no matter what!"

"Wait! Don't—ack!" Romano tried to run over and do something, but just before he could reach Lindy, he felt himself get lifted by the back of his shirt collar. Dammit… not this. A quick glance over the shoulder confirmed that Klein had indeed grabbed him and was now holding him several inches above the floor. No matter how much he flailed and struggled, he couldn't escape Klein's hold. _Dammit…_

"Hee hee, nice try there. But play time is over now, little buggy. We get what we want." Lindy giggled at Romano and gave him a harsh flick on the forehead before turning to America. "I have to say, you were pretty effective at stopping us for a while… but it's ending here. I'm going to be finally rid of you!"

Dark shadows rose from the ground like steam, and they hissed and crackled as they grew and become more voluminous. After a few moments, they became thick enough that Romano couldn't see below anyone's waist. Up ahead, America tried pushing through the crowds to get to the demons—everyone else was fixated on the shadows, seemingly unable to respond to the imminent danger.

Then, with a flick of Lindy's wrist, the shadows shot forward, and everyone before her was bowled over. There was a loud hiss, and then Romano could see the shadows slowly build upwards, with only America caught in the middle. America started to fight against the dark forces, but it seemed to have no effect at all. Then, the swirling and crackling and hissing mass started to split apart from the top, and it seemed to take on the form of a large mouth, with a long tongue in the middle ensnaring America… and then the jaws widened, and,

Romano could see his dream replaying in his mind, and—

At the last moment, he made a grab for Lindy's long hair and just _pulled._

She stumbled, nearly falling over, and lost her focus. The shadows responded to this, and suddenly they started to come apart and move in different directions, as though a perfect formation of soldiers suddenly panicked and scrambled.

America was released and fell, crashing into some chess tables and hitting the ground with a loud thud. The shadows dispersed, behaving now like a gas, and slowly faded away.

Lindy stood with her mouth gaping open, staring at the scene. Then she snapped her mouth shut and turned to give Romano a cold, hard glare. "_You…_" she said, her shoulders shaking, and Romano's heart pounded. "You ruined it! Do you know what that was!?"

She slammed her fist across Romano's face, and he could feel the blow before he heard it. "Of course you don't!" she continued, and _crack_—another punch sent his face in the other direction. "You little!"

Klein threw Romano onto the ground, stomach up, and the Italian could see two enraged demons looking down at him.

And then came the beating. Lindy continued shouting curses at him—the exact wording of which Romano couldn't make out anymore—and he felt each sharp blow on his body. First on his stomach, and the wind was knocked out of him, then on the chest with a huge sear of pain—then again on the chest, and again, and then the neck, crushing heels into his arms, sharp pains in his face—

His body became consumed with pain, and then…just blackness, and Romano was out.


	10. The Calm

_Content warning in this chapter for painful injuries, light hyperventilation, and unwanted physical contact._

* * *

There was the sound of water—soft and gentle, like a river flowing over rocks.

And then there was _pain_. _Shit_. Sharp pain in Romano's chest whenever he breathed in, aching tenderness in his nose, arms that felt limp and useless and _so_ numb in a sore way...

Romano found himself laying on his back, and when he finally managed to open his eyes, he could see treetops and bright blue sky. He was shirtless, but he could feel some rough fabric on his back—felt like the bedroll—and grass tickled at his arms and feet.

Soon enough, he could hear footsteps approaching. Luckily, the owner of the footsteps spoke up before he chanced twisting his neck around to see: "Romano! You're awake." America. "How you doin'?"

Romano could only huff and glare in response, because _damn_, that was a stupid question.

"No, seriously. Where's it hurt?" The blond sat by Romano's side then, holding some wet cloth.

"Fuck me, it hurts _everywhere_." America gestured for him to go on, though, so Romano added, "The worst is in my chest. Hurts to breathe too deep."

"Hm." America took a moment to glance over Romano and think, before he spoke up again. "I'm going to get you cleaned up, all right?" He began then to rub at the other man's chest with the cloth, as he continued, "It looks like you got—"

—_Fuck_ fuck _ow_—"Bastard, cut that out!" The pain eased instantly, and Romano took an all-too-shallow breath of relief. _Fuck_. He snapped his eyes to the left (thank god those still worked like normal) to see America standing by with the cloth. "The fuck are you doing? Is that really necessary?"

"I'm cleaning you up. It'll prevent your wounds from getting infected, and I'll also be able to see the damage more clearly."

"Well, then be more careful, you rough bastard!"

"I am! As I was saying, it looks like they broke at least one of your ribs. This is going to hurt no matter what I do, all right?"

"D-dammit!" Romano felt his heart rate pick up; he did not fucking like this one bit. "Can't I just do it on my own?"

"Well… give it a try, I guess."

Romano grunted—_fuck_ his arm did not want to cooperate right now—and he made to try and throw his hand in America's direction. _Dammit shit fuck shit shit_ there was just _pain_ where the muscle should be—and he couldn't quite make his arm go straight—

"That's enough, Romano," America said, and he easily pushed Romano's arm back into place by his side. "I'll take care of it. It won't be that bad, so try and relax, all right?"

Romano glared at the man sitting next to him. Dammit, why did he sound so… _nice_ and fucking _gentle_ right now? Did the bastard moonlight as a nurse or some shit?

"I'm trying again now. Just focus on my voice. Those two really did a number on you, you know… you've got dirt and dry blood all over here."

_Fuck_ fuck every damn little dab made Romano's body protest like hell. He tried to focus on America like he was told, but dammit, he wasn't taking in his words anymore—all he could notice was just the sound of the bastard's voice. _Fuck, fuck, shit, ow..._

When America was finished, it took a few seconds for Romano to realize it, as the fucking pain still just… _lingered_. Did the bastard break his ribs even more, or something? _Shit_. Did it hurt to breathe like this before America came back? _Fuuuuck._

"Hey, Romano?" America ventured, and at least it was a tiny bit uplifting to hear him sound subdued.

"What."

"I'm gonna have to do your face now. They've might've broken your nose, though."

Romano could only glare at the other. After a few seconds, though, it started to hurt his neck, and _dammit_, what was he supposed to do if he couldn't effectively glare anymore!? Romano huffed and stared back at the sky, focusing all of his frustration at the clouds. "Go ahead. Bastard."

Suffice to say, Romano's mood did not improve in the least for the rest of that day.

* * *

Romano was backed up against a wall, and besides that, there was just _America_. The blond was pressed up close, and with one hand he pinned Romano's arms to the wall, above his head; with the other hand, he stroked down Romano's jawline, down over the side of his neck. Romano felt… chills. All over.

But. Somehow, it was all _wrong_. Romano wanted to shout, but his throat felt tight. He looked up then, into America's eyes—cold and hard. The blond wore a sneer, and his hand had reached Romano's waist then, and slid under his shirt.

Oh, _god_—he was going to die.

"Stupid," America said, and his voice was so harsh it could cut the air. "You're so worthless. What were you thinking? I'm fucking sick of having to put up with you." His hand was on the other man's chest now, fingers splayed out. "Romano. You're everything I could ever hate. I should've gotten rid of you months ago."

And then, America pressed into Romano's chest, and pain surged from there and consumed his whole body—

—And then there was the night sky, littered with shimmering stars.

Romano grasped at his chest, sharp pains inside, like he was stabbed and couldn't breathe—he tried to inhale, and all he heard was his own quick and shaky breath before the pain exploded again—

He tried to take another breath, and he noticed then the sound of the river, still flowing as steadily as ever. Romano focused on the river then, and slowly, he could feel the tension release from his chest, and the pain started to recede, ever so slightly. He relaxed his position then, and went back to steadying his breath. Just the sound of water, and nice, deep, breaths.

Romano didn't know how long he'd been doing that, but finally, he felt… not good, but at least, stable.

Only then, did he notice that America wasn't around.

...Was that a good thing, or a bad thing? Romano grit his teeth as America's eyes from his latest nightmare flashed in his mind. What the hell was that? Did America really feel that way about him?

A cold chill spread down Romano's spine at the thought of that.

But… _America is a friendly guy_, Romano reminded himself. He remembered all the times he saw the other man so unreasonably chipper, and just… well, when _wasn't_ America perky? When did America ever seem so angry—so _hateful_—towards any single person?

_Fuck,_ that dream, though. It was definitely another one of… _those_ dreams, the ones that showed the future somehow. There was no mistaking how sharp it felt.

"Hey, Romano—you awake?"

The Italian yelped and his body jolted, and ow, _ow_, that was a shitty reaction.

"...I'm going to take that as a yes." Romano steadied his breathing and glanced to the side, seeing America settle back into his nearby bedroll.

"B-Bastard. Where the hell were you?" Looking at America now… there was absolutely no trace of that coldness from the dream. Just… well… if anything, warmth and comfort. Romano would never be able to say it out loud, but dammit… America was actually doing a pretty good job of taking care of him.

"Taking a walk. I was having trouble sleeping. Do you need something?"

"No. Just getting myself back to sleep now, asshole."

"All right. Good night, then!" America sent Romano a smile before laying on his back. After a moment, he withdrew something from his breast pocket, and held it up, staring at the object as the moonlight shone down on it.

Romano recognized it as the Indigo Crystal—shaped like a pussy willow branch with its many small round buds, and still glowing faintly in its namesake color.

"Oi, America. The fuck are you doing?"

It seemed to take a moment for America to realize he was being spoken to, but finally his eyes focused and he faced Romano. "Oh, hey. I was just thinking."

Romano rolled his eyes. "Well, now that's surprising."

America paid the remark no mind and continued, "It's about this Crystal. Espra told us that this one brings back sadness… so, should we really try and bring it back? The people of this world are all happy now, but if we revive the Indigo Crystal, then we'll literally be spreading misery and suffering through the whole world."

"Not everyone can be happy all the time like you, dumbass. It's normal to feel sad."

"It's normal for _us_ to feel sad. But here, we have the chance to keep it away from the whole world, forever. No one would ever have to suffer!"

Romano frowned. "Look, it doesn't even matter what we think. We have to restore _all _the Crystals in order to get home."

"...Oh. Yeah."

"_Yeah_, burger-brain."

"Well… anyway, this isn't something we need to be losing sleep over. Especially not you, dude." America's smile switched on again, and he tucked the Crystal back into his pocket. "'Night!"

"Yeah, whatever, good night." Romano cozied himself into his bedroll again and tried to fall back asleep.

Sleep didn't return immediately, though, so he snuck a look at America. Despite the blond's recommendation that they needed to rest, it didn't take long for America's smile to melt away into that pensive expression again. Even as Romano finally started to drift off, he could still see that the other man was wide awake, staring at the moon and stars, as though they could answer the questions on his mind.

* * *

**Author's Notes:**

* * *

Hey there, everyone! Finally, chapter ten is here! Hooray!

Since I like adding in little extra facts sometimes, well, here I go! I looked up broken ribs a little bit for this chapter, and it felt in line with the situation and with the severity of injury I wanted… but sadly, there really isn't anything that can be done about them. I wanted a cute little situation where America just, I dunno… wrapped the wounds or something, and there would be a little intimacy, or _something—_I don't like over-romanticizing injuries, but it would've been nice to just have a teeny tiny something-something there.

But no, the procedure for that is just, do nothing, have the patient take it easy, as far as I read. WebMD told me that doctors used to wrap a sort of binding around the chest to help keep it in place for the bones to heal, but then it could prevent the patient from taking full breaths as needed, and then making that happen for extended periods could make other complications arise… so no, nope, Romano's just gotta lay there and take it.

If it makes anyone feel any better, it's just a rib fracture, and not like… completely broken into pieces, laying all over the place Trauma Center-style sort of broken. Has anyone played any of the Trauma Center games? Even though it looks kind of silly, they love making you piece bones back together, like some jigsaw puzzle that had the pieces thrown all over the damn place. XD

Fuck, I love to ramble. Well, look, on a completely different note—the language of flowers has not been kind to me! Granted, I don't super look into it way deep—I just try and do a quick Google search for 'flower that represents _insert emotion the Crystal represents here_' and then I pick out whatever I see that I like.

For every flavor of romantic love you can think of—lust, love at first sight, 'I'm always thinking of you', whatever!—there's going to be a damn flower for it. Any other emotion? Not so much! Nothing at all for pensiveness, I just ended up going with an iris because it _felt_ like a think-y kind of flower. Just from what it looked like. A willow symbolizing sadness is something I got off one random website, and I do like pussy willows, but… Apparently, in China, as well as some parts of east Asia, a willow represents happiness and prosperity. Also, in east Europe, among people who follow East Orthodox Christianity, a willow branch is associated with Palm Sunday celebrations. I've never been Christian, but I'm pretty sure Palm Sunday is supposed to be a happy holiday, from the little I do know of it.

So… fuck. A plant that's supposed to be happy and prosperous got pegged for the Sadness Crystal. Insert upset emoji here.

I am many excite for the next chapter, and I'll see y'all then! Thanks again for reading, for all the kudos and follows and favorites, and especially for the reviews! You're all awesome!


	11. Tempest

Romano took a deep breath as he sat back down on the bed, ignoring the twinge of pain in his chest. It was several weeks later now, and even though his injury wasn't completely healed, it was at least feeling a lot better.

Currently, he was back at the room he and America shared, at an inn located in a city called Nexus. _The_ Nexus, as the people here kept correcting him to. _Whatever_.

Anyway, they were near the next Crystal now—the Emerald Crystal—and today they'd gone their separate ways to get some information on it. Apparently, there was no priestess here, either.

Thankfully, from what Romano gathered, this one would be a cinch to get. It was safely housed in a large temple nearby—and he even got directions how to get there!—all they needed to do was to climb some stairs to the third floor and then grab the damn thing.

The door to the room slammed open then, and in came America. "Oh! H-hey there, dude! What's up?"

Romano narrowed his eyes at the other. America definitely looked… nervous. "The fuck's wrong with you?"

"Wrong? What? Me? Hahaha, nothing's wrong! I can handle a ghost or two!"

Romano frowned, feeling frustrated. Besides that one weird, random conversation about the Indigo Crystal a few weeks ago, the burger bastard had been acting perfectly normally. Dammit. The last thing he needed was for America to go all _weird_ on him, and prevent them from getting home! "The fuck," Romano continued after a few long moments, "do ghosts have to do with anything?"

"Oh, nothing! Nothing. Not at all, nope. I mean, well…" America started gesturing mindlessly, and Romano couldn't help but groan. "Well! Y'see, they might _maybe_ have one at the temple. Or, um… more than one. Maybe a lot. But who cares, right!? I… I ain't afraid of no ghost! Right!?"

"... _Right._" Romano raised an eyebrow at that. There was no way America believed himself to be convincing. Not for a fucking second… right?

"So! How about you! You, uh, don't mind a little ghost on the way, d-do you?" America switched among gesticulating, pacing, and wringing his hands—apparently he wasn't able to keep still. More so than usual.

"... Actually," Romano answered, barely hiding a smirk, "I do mind. Ghosts are fucking terrifying!" And Romano did partly believe what he said; though he never really dealt with them much, they seemed pretty scary. Mostly, though, he wanted to see where he could go with this. So America was scared of ghosts, was he? This sounded potentially hilarious!

"I-I know, man! They're just, so…" America waved his arms around for emphasis, knocking over a lamp in the process. "Like, what are you even supposed to do about them! You can't punch them or, or use guns!"

"I know!" Romano was enjoying this way too much.

"But! Th-they're just… they're still _there_! And they try to get into your head!"

"Exactly!" Aw, America was kind of cute when he was like this. Mostly funny, but still, cute.

Heavy hands gripped Romano's shoulders. "But we gotta do this, man! Stay strong!" America was met only with a blank stare—the Italian's breath caught for a moment because _damn _the idiot looked so fucking earnest now—so he continued, "I know you're scared, but we gotta do this together!"

"Um… yeah!"

"And you know you can rely on me! Because I'm totally not scared!"

"Pfft—" Romano snorted at that, effectively snapping him out of his… just staring at America's face. Bastard had gotten too close just then, dammit!

"Um…?" America leaned back, looking a little put off.

Once Romano saw that, he started to feel a bit guilty, and his giggling died down. "I, I mean! Bastard! Don't look so upset. I don't mind going with you to the temple that's full of gh… gho…" he trailed off, as the full realization finally hit him of what they were going to do. "... ghosts…?"

"Yeah, ghosts."

"Um. What kind of ghosts are we talking about here? The friendly kind, right? Or… the mopey ones?" He wasn't an expert by any means, but from what Romano heard, ghosts could range anywhere from 'harmless entertainment' to 'possessing your body and setting your house on fire'. Eugh.

America shook his head and let go of Romano, looking serious now—any frustration from earlier forgotten. "Something more dangerous. I heard that they try to possess people and make them go crazy, so that the ghost can feed off of their negative emotions."

"... _Oh._" Shit. That just sounded fan_-fucking_-tastic.

"Yeah. And from what I heard, if you get possessed, then there's this, like… mark, or something, that appears on your skin. That's why we should go together—keep an eye on each other!"

"Well… m-makes sense."

"Oh, and also… youcanheartheirvoicesinsideyourhead."

"Bastard, _what?_"

"Y-yeah, like… that's how they g-get you. They try to convince you to lose all hope, or something, and then… you're possessed. S-something to do with opening your heart to their ways. Or… was it more that you're closing your heart off? W-well, anyway! From what I heard, we should be fine, as long as we s-stay strong!"

Romano turned away, frowning. Despite the nice words, America looked frightened as fuck. In the end, though… "Do I have much of a choice, asshole? We'll have to go in there in order to get home."

"P-pretty much, yeah. And I'll feel—I-I mean, it'll be safer if you come along!"

Romano grunted in agreement, feeling his face warm at the slip-up. That fucking bastard.

And America wasn't about to make it any better. "Now, for tonight… do you think we could sleep together?"

* * *

It was the fucking goddamn asscrack of dawn the next morning when the pair decided to head out and grab the fucking Crystal. Shit, fucking, just _shit_.

After a day _full _of annoying the shit out of Romano over it, America finally convinced the Italian to let them sleep together that night. And what a fucking horrible decision that was.

Romano was scared of the ghosts, sure, but America… that bastard just got downright _spastic_. He couldn't fucking keep still, and he kept shaking the bed, and pulling the covers, and just—_fuck!_ Even when Romano finally did feel his eyelids get heavy, America just fucking whined about it! 'Nooo, you can't fall asleep before me, that's not fair!', and other shit like that. Son of a _bitch_.

And so, after a whole fucking night of neither of them being able to get to sleep, they finally decided to just go in and finish damn the job once the sun started coming up.

God, _damn_. Fucking _fuck _America. Fuck America, dammit!

Once they arrived at the temple, however, Romano's raging anger very quickly died down.

Fuck.

They were really going in there, weren't they? Into that, that… _huge_, ghost-infested, building.

…_Fuck._

If Romano wasn't fucking terrified of the ghosts inside, and if the place had its regular maintenance done, then he would probably say that the building looked nice. It was a grand structure with breezy archways, intricate design, tall stained glass windows, and several beautiful spires. A river ran through the area, and the temple's foundation worked with it, taking in the current and dispersing it into several fountains and waterfalls, before the water eventually returned to its regular course.

But of course, like all the other buildings in this world, this temple was just fucking run-down, and mostly colorless. He heard that it was like a damn rainbow back in the day, though.

Also, it had crazy-ass fucking ghosts inside. Did he mention that already? _Fuck_.

"Hey man," America said, nudging Romano's shoulder. "You ready to go in?"

Romano took a deep breath, steadied his nerves, and gave a stiff nod. He fucking had this. All he had to do was focus on going home, and then the ghosts wouldn't be able to convince him of shit!

But, once they were inside… "I...I think I can see why the ghosts might be convincing," Romano said, taking a glance around. When America shot him a frown, he quickly added, "to someone else! Someone else, yeah."

"It _is _pretty dark…" the blond added, facing forward, frown not leaving his face.

"And dusty. And fucking abandoned."

"Yeah… But, I'm not scared!"

"... Right."

"Yup. R-right."

And with that, they started searching down a hallway, looking for the stairs. As they were doing that, Romano kept mentally reminding himself, they were doing this so they could go home, they were doing this so they could go home…

_And when you're home, everything will be perfect, won't it?_

There'd be top-quality Italian pizza and pasta there! And fucking modern things. And his actual house where he could take all the peaceful siestas he wanted. And of course, all the pretty girls there… the pretty girls who weren't magically empty of emotions, thank you very much!

_And… that's it?_

Fuck yeah, that was it! Always good to appreciate the simple things in life.

_But you don't have a place in your world, do you? No one needs you._

Romano's breath caught for a moment, and he stopped walking. So maybe that was true…

"H-hey, Romano? You, uh… you all right?" America asked.

The Italian focused back on the present moment and turned to face his companion. After a long moment he finally answered, "Y-yeah. I'm fine, bastard."

"All right, then. Let's… let's keep going. This way looks like a de… d-dead end."

So they moved on, trying another way now, and Romano reminded himself again—he was doing this so they could go home!

_Even though no one cares._

It's not like he ever cared what others thought of him, though! They didn't care about him, and he didn't care about them, dammit.

_So you're thriving all on your own, then?_

Romano loved being alone. He knew how to take care of himself, and he could live however he pleased; if he had someone else in his life, that would just be annoying.

_Well, all right. Just keep telling yourself that..._

The two of them rounded a corner then, and—yes!—there were the stairs!

Once they reached the second floor, they'd be even closer to the Crystal, and therefore, closer to getting home! And then Romano could eat, sleep, and flirt all he wanted!

_Because that's all you need in life. Unlike anyone else, you can just keep going on those simple, fleeting things, can't you?_

Well, whenever Romano tried doing something better with his time, it just didn't work out. He couldn't make beautiful art like his brother, and he didn't have the patience and kindness of Spain or Belgium, so he wasn't any good at that random community service stuff… And he knew, even the potato bastard could be good, because he helped his people with engineering or whatever…

_But you don't bring anything to the table, do you?_

Not at all, no…

_Oh, but wait—there is one thing you gave to the world, isn't there?_

Romano winced at the thought. Cosa Nostra. The mafia that started in his half of Italy, and now it's spread all over the world, causing trouble for a bunch of other countries…

_Good job._

He still had trouble with them himself, too.

The next set of stairs wasn't too far, so soon enough, they were climbing up to the third floor. They were almost there now, and Romano reminded himself once again—they could get this done and then go home.

But. Was it really necessary for him to go back?

_You just spread trouble to everyone else._

He never had anything good to give, only bad.

_No one wants you._

His brother has Germany now, and clearly, his life is perfectly fine that way.

_When he's with you, you just make your brother cry._

And he was never any good to Spain, either. The guy was just too nice and patient, and that was the only reason he could stay with Spain for so long.

_If it were anyone else, they would've kicked you out a long time ago._

The only thing he gave Spain was frustration and broken furniture…

"Romano?" America called out, a few steps ahead. The Italian snapped himself back into the present moment—he didn't even notice that he'd stopped walking. "You sure you're okay?"

'No. I'm just hopeless,' was how he wanted to reply. "Yes… everything's fine." No point in worrying America, though. At least, _he _should keep going and get home.

"You don't sound all right. Do you need me to walk you back to the entrance?"

At that, he just blanked. What could he say? He wanted to keep going for America's sake, but he didn't think he could make himself sound convincing enough.

"Come on, then. Let's head back."

America walked up to him and placed a hand on his shoulder, trying to urge him to move. It struck Romano then—this hallway was very familiar. It looked exactly like the place from his nightmare a few weeks ago…

"Come on, Romano. We should call it a day on this one, all right?"

Oh, god. It was going to happen here, wasn't it?

"Romano?"

They were going to fail at their task because Romano was so…

..._worthless._

"Dude, say something!"

And that was it. Even America would run out of patience. And to be honest, it would be completely justified.

"Romano!"

America was lightly slapping at Romano's cheek, and finally, he snapped out of it again. Blue eyes looked down at him, strained and concerned. "I, I'm here."

"Good," America said, and his shoulders slumped with relief. "Come on, let's get out of here."

"No. We should keep going."

"We should stop if it's too much. We can always try again later."

"It's not going to be any better the next time, but right now, we're so close. Let's just get it done with." America had no answer to that, so Romano continued, "at the very least, you should go back home as soon as possible."

At that, America just looked downright baffled.

And then another realization hit Romano—the ghosts. Right now, he just felt so _hopeless_, and… and, that was because the ghosts had been talking to him all this time, hadn't they? And so, what if… America had been through exactly the same thing?

"And… what about you? You definitely have to get back," America answered. "I mean—we both do, but don't make it sound like no one would care about you." And even though he tried to sound comforting, America looked so clearly despondent right now, and Romano felt his heart break.

"America, you're not worried that no one cares about you, are you?"

The blond only answered with a frown.

"Don't think about that! It's just the ghosts messing with your head, all right? Plenty of people care about you!"

"... If something's true, then it doesn't matter who said it, does it?"

"America!"

The blond shook his head then, and gathered his resolve. "Look, forget about all this, all right? You don't have to try and cheer me up. I get it. If you're so set on getting things done with now, then let's just do it."

"I don't want you to feel so hopeless, though!" Romano held onto America's arms and looked him straight in the eye. "Where would the world be without you, huh? And—what about England? You two are really close, right?"

"Like I said, don't try to cheer me up. You don't know what you're talking about, okay?"

Romano wanted to say something, but—well, it was true. He didn't know anything about America's life or relationships. How, then, could he convince the other man of anything?

"Come on, let's get a move on."

America tried to step away, but Romano tightened his grip, effectively getting the other's attention again. "S-so, maybe, I don't know enough about you or England or anyone to convince you of anything. But, America, it hurts to see you like this, and, I just want you to know… I… I really care about you, all right? I want you to get back home and be happy."

"...Um. What're you…what do you mean?"

A small smile slipped onto Romano's face. God, America was so sweet. He couldn't help it then… he tilted his chin up and leaned forward just a little, pressing his lips against America's. It was nothing strong or skillful, but instead, just a sweet little moment, before he pulled away.

And America, bless his soul, looked stunned.

And then… he looked upset again. Cold, even.

Everything inside Romano seemed to freeze.

"All right, I'm done," America said, and he sounded rather... harsh. "I'm at the end of my rope. Forget about the Crystals, all right?"

"Er—what!?"

"Don't 'what' me. I'm not as fucking stupid as you think I am. I can see what you're getting at." America's eyes hardened, and his lips pulled down into a tight frown.

Romano started to feel the adrenaline rush through his body. "I… I'm not getting at anything! Y-you're starting to freak me out, b-bastard." He tried to step away, but America's hand came down on his shoulder, gripping tightly. "C-come on, let go! A-and th-then, we can talk this out like normal, a-all right?"

"No."

Suddenly, the wind was knocked out of Romano, his back slammed against something hard, and he started choking on some kind of… _dust_, and he could feel the ache in his ribs again—America held both of his shoulders now, and he was pressed _into _the wall—he could barely see, from the corner of his eye, the way the stone was cracking from behind him, and a light dust of powder started falling from the cracks—"I hate you, Romano, I hate you _so much_. You think you'll just sweep me off my feet, and then we'll go home and you'll have me all to yourself, is that it?"

"What—no, I—" Any further response was cut off, as America wrapped his large fingers around Romano's neck and _squeezed_—it took all of his focus then just to keep breathing.

"God, I wish you were never around. You're so fucking _pretentious_. You're made up of everything I could ever hate, you know?" Romano tried pushing America's arm away, futile as it was, and so the blond grabbed his wrists and slammed them on the wall above his head, holding them down now with one hand.

And that was when Romano saw it—there, under America's right eye, some intricate black mark, that looked like it was made with a brush and ink by some expert artist.

With his free hand, America ran his fingers through Romano's hair, though the gesture was anything but gentle. And his face now—he was smiling, but it looked so twisted, so _sadistic_, and all at once everything seemed to freeze—Romano was going to die here, he knew it.

"It's always about how I don't understand _real _food," America continued, voice like acid. "Or I don't get clothes, or I'm just _so _stupid, and violent… and _oh_, how could I forget? I'm so fat and greasy, aren't I?

"But _you_—you're _Italian_! The Earth is blessed to have you, isn't it?" His hand moved down from Romano's hair to his jaw, and then down his neck. "You have the _best _food, by anyone's measure! And your looks are just _perfect_, and you're so clever, and yes, _cultured_. Everyone should be looking up to you, shouldn't they?"

Slowly, his hand trailed down Romano's chest, and _fuck_ Romano just knew what was coming, but his throat felt tight and what could he do?—

"So, when I'm at my weakest moment, you're going to sweep me off my feet—should be easy since I'm so _stupid_ and you're _such_ a great lover! And then you'll have anything you want, is that it? Money, and power? The world's strongest nation, at your service!" His hand slipped under Romano's shirt, and then, fingers outstretched, it came to rest on his chest. "You're just miserable and fucking _worthless_, Romano. I should've gotten rid of you from the very beginning."

And that was when America just started to press, _hard_, into Romano's chest. A scream ripped through the weaker nation's throat—loud, and raw, and it filled the whole room—and pain surged out from his old wounds—

—And suddenly, he was on the floor, free from America's grasp. He heaved deep and painful breaths, and looked up to see America glaring at him, cold and hard.

"Get out of my sight."

Adrenaline and instinct took over then, and Romano wasn't completely conscious of it, but he staggered to his feet, ran down the stairs, ran down another flight, and out the door. He kept going, far away, to somewhere he didn't really know, until finally, he collapsed near a tree somewhere, out in some forest he didn't recognize at all.

He leaned against the tree, taking in heavy, painful breaths, and all the while, he couldn't get the image of America's glaring eyes and face out of his mind.

* * *

**Author's Notes:**

* * *

Whew, that took a while to finish! I knew I'd be writing this chapter since nearly the beginning of the story, actually! But then, when it came time to write it, I had to redo it over and over again, until I could refine it into something I liked. But hey, here we are!

Also, I just want to make it clear here—I'm not writing this to give any commentary at all on world history, or culture, or lifestyle choices, or anything like that at all! Everything here is just my best guess on how to write the characters, given their situation. And also it's just me trying to write something that's interesting!

Anydangway, lots of people get a holiday break around now, whether you're celebrating anything or not! So I hope y'all have a good one! And see ya next year!


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